It is likely that she kisses
the papery skin of her child’s fontanelle,
stretches her fingertips above
his belly, begs his ribcage
and thin arms, where inky flesh greys.
There is a slow tearing, an acceptance
of parting. An unbearable surrender
she does not resist.
She may ask her child’s forgiveness;
she understands the burden
of motherhood.
This is the curve of her story.
There is a [...]
“Hi, I’m Art Buchwald, and I just died.” I read that line in a magazine article about writer Art Buchwald. He delivered those words in an online video obituary published by the New York Times. I think it’s both hilarious and inspiring.
Born of the soil
bred to work from daylight to dark
and to never expect
anything more
Loaded into boxcars heading east
to improve their lot, packed with livestock
they travelled on dirty floors of hay covered
where animals slept, ate and shat
farmers of heavy stock, invited
to liberty
their stupid courage stepped off
railway cars filled with promise
to sidewalks steeped
in the memory of Stalin’s [...]
A friend recently asked me what is the funniest, most surprising or unexpected thing about being midlife. “Midlife????!!!” I responded. “Who says I’m midlife?”
I have a black and white photograph
of my great-grandparents.
Their daughter gave it to me.
“He looks normal.” I say. He smiled
for the picture. “She looks
tired,” the daughter responds, knowing
the reasons.
The woman in a petite, patterned dress sewn
by hands too old for his eyes; remnants
of vows tying hands to secrets. An English
garden, the heart of her homeland.
Rose [...]
Giving in the spirit of Christmas, honouring personal heroes, paying if forward—it doesn’t matter what you call it, the important thing is action.
Tips for getting the most from your time with editors-for-hire and writers-in-residence.
Time is not a line, but a series of now-points.
— Taisen Deshimaru
We draw
imaginary lines from
one burning stone
to another, create
a constellation, something
we can almost touch
something we can believe
because
if it can be held
it can be held close.
From “Brushing Back History” a chapbook of poetry by Valerie Poulin.