nessun dorma, camp petawawa, 1940
“My head was still resonant with song. . .” Mario Duliani they sent hundreds of…
Poetry
Fingerprints
A rough, work-worn wind beat the air when my grandfather spoke sturdy fingers contouring…
As I Watch My Father Fading
As I Watch My Father Fading As I watch my father fading I realize we begin our lives With…
Vita Brevis
Short back and long bangs, but our barber never got it right. Gentile’s place—you…
Cattivo Ragazzino
Mid-afternoon rays fell through the bay window’s lace curtain veil to rest warmly on…
lasso the moon
what is it you want? I ain’t no jimmy stewart but just say the word by this lake that…
One All Souls’ Day
On that November morning, she slipped into the dress she’d worn to the last family…
The Light and Sky in Winnipeg
This sunlight belongs in a Mediterranean harbour or outside the shade of a small orange…
The Neighbourhood is Changing
the old men have nowhere to go banished like corroded barges in some abandoned port they…
After September 11, 2001
It’s winter already – locked doors and windows keep out the cold the warm…