High Wire
What the hell, says Karl, back on the wire
poetry
Creek
Green water, tree mirror, the steadfast white spruce stare
Highway 271 North (You Come Out of the Hills)
out of hiding, out of the canvas nightroom, circus tent
Corona: After the Blizzard
Staring out at the empty parking lot
A Slow Burst of Song
Briefly:
The Usual Sadness
On the hike down
One more for the road
Here's to the slate-coloured, grey-eyed junco
Crossing the Strait
We churn away from the island & our wake
Snowfall, Pender Island
Come in from the wood pile, hands
The Ponzo Ilusion
In the head-on collision
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
