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Time
Days, half awake, immobile as old men leaning, Hours stacked in untidy piles around the room, Minutes stretched along the walls like arms, unlinked- All immune to the pale blue infection on the window’s breath- Lounge, cow-eyed In the tedious drag of shadows across the floor. And me? Forced to spend what seem like years…
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Places that we’ve come to trust
When I was a child, the world was an even stranger place than it is now. I knew so much less then, and the boundaries of almost every experience were unexplored and mysterious. I suppose that’s to be expected when the menu is large, and the stomach limited. So, with no internet to answer…
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A Childless Motherhood
Well of course! Did we think there would be no consequences? Did we actually think we could get away with it? That there weren’t two sides to the story that we all needed to hear? Sometimes I think we are so focused on our journey to right a wrong, that we wander off the path…
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Beggaring All Description
Beauty is many things, I suppose, and attempts to define it are fraught. It seems to vary between societies and eras, with some cultures deciding it is appearance, and some opting for demeanour. One such view, influenced by the Greek diaspora following the conquests of Alexander the Great, Koine Greek, used an adjective for beautiful:…
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With mirth and laughter, let old wrinkles come
“Bear with my weakness. My old brain is troubled. Be not disturbed with my infirmity”, says Prospero in Shakespeare’s Tempest. But at what age does one become old? And if we could answer that without resort to comparisons would it be a useful thing? Or does it, in fact, require perspective to sort it out?…
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The Feast of Difference
I don’t read many children’s books anymore -my own children have long since had children of their own- but every so often I am reminded of how important books can be for them. Whatever you may think of political correctness and its enthusiastic exhortations for sensitivity, or its celebration of differences, there are times when…
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Texting LIVE
You know, I love being old -you get to learn so many things. For example, I found out that you should probably not admit you’re old at parties because it leaves you open to stuff, and not all of it is nice. Personally, I go in disguise, although we all have to find the door…
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Overmastered with a piece of valiant dust?
I am by no definition an athlete. As a child in frigid Winnipeg, I played pickup hockey on an outdoor rink with wobbly skates, held upright by the stick I used mostly as a cane. The part I enjoyed most, though, was sitting in the little community center building after the game as my frost-bitten…
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