The Question
The angel, what I thought was an angel, hovered
Miller, Eric
Late in the season yet another defence of nature writing
Where are the songs of spring? Not over
The Web
September's a month spun by spiders.
Wading Willows Beach
Into the water the boy walks. The water seems to brim
Ducks
We love to service attractive greed.
In the Scaffolding
As when you come to an autumn boathouse and ice
Rock, Ball
A two-year-old wobbles wilfully onto a pont of land
The Maytime of Names
Taprooted gold in the blue lawn of sky
Celestial Navigators
Night falls. Migrant whitethroats ping upward
Fredericton and Fatherhood
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
