Skip to content
Skip to navigation
Magazine
Current Issue
Back Issues
Advertise
Masthead
Subscribe
Contribute
Submit
Contest
Donate
Contact
Search form
Search
The Fiddlehead
Atlantic Canada's International Literary Journal
Menu
Home
Current Issue
Poetry
All
Features
Interviews
Reviews
Fiction
All
Features
Interviews
Reviews
Non-Fiction
All
Features
Interviews
Reviews
Stop! Look! Listen!
All
Books
Music
Radio Fiddlehead
Visual Art
What's Up?
Magazine
Current Issue
Back Issues
Advertise
Masthead
Subscribe
Contribute
Contact
Shop
Robert Gibbs
Night Walk
So quiet these waters breathe,
Present Till Presently
What holds this night, hold my heart,
The Last Wind's Last Word
Now the last wind comes telling
Still Salty Ghosts
Pass quick and quiet long shuttered eyes
Dead Love and Lost Days
Dead love and lost days, shrivelled corns
December
How quickly days bring back to night
An Untimed Instant
Light trims the white edges of the bay,
Cross Purposes
Cold it is tonight, and still
Always at This Cross
I know a place beyond slipping
Under the Silence
A white slant of silence shaped the walls
Pages
« first
‹ previous
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
next ›
last »
Current Issue:
No. 301