Writings

You were blowing like a light breeze I felt you on my skin like a whirlwind. I brought my ear close and all became calm. Your hair was silky your eyes were charmed by a vivid green. It was not me it was the reflection of your own words. It was not mine the mirrored image it was the shell of your own desires. I look at me now distant in time and in space what do I see? The stairway of a dream whose steps never knew how to climb…

The intravenous drips, whispering life back into you with its moist breath. Coaxing you drop by drop to re-hydrate. Imploring your depleted spirit to respond reach out and suck the bag dry. Who says machines don’t have a soul? Rosanna Micelotta Battigelli is an alumna of the Humber School for Writers. Her novel La Brigantessa (Inanna Publications, 2018) won Gold for Historical Fiction in the 2019 IPPY Awards, and was a Finalist for the 2019 Canadian Authors Association Fred Kerner Book Award and the 2019 Northern Lit Award. Rosanna is…

Nino Ricci was the featured guest of the third edition of the Librissimi Toronto Italian Book Festival, held online on…

“Piazza Navona, Rome” is the grand prize winner of the 2020 Accenti “Capture an Italian Moment” Photo Contest. The photo…

Relatively few Canadian writers and artists of Italian heritage openly identify as queer through their writings and in interviews. In…

SAPLING Sunday mornings, Mom attends mass at St. Ambrose Church while Dad takes me to High Park where I play…

“Since the house is on fire, let us warm ourselves.” (Italian proverb)   Monday, 9 a.m. Not writing. Dim, dreary…