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A Riff on Changing Times (for Norma West Linder)

shorts and sandals on a hot October day 30.1 degrees Celsius this is a riff on changing times on changing ways on changing days salmon are jumping and people are oohing the weir too high, they spawn and die the water runs swift like the beat of a riff cormorants soar while cascades roar susurrant,

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In Memory of My Memory

In Memory of My Memory Okay, so this happened on Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Wait… Was it Monday? What day is it? It was Sunday. Yes, it was Sunday because Sunday means I get to drive up north and say hi to the maple trees. I like trees. They are nice neighbours. They are always standing

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“it was the land”

https://youtu.be/DAP59RPZoMg *Shorter version: https://youtu.be/iZ1Q9J4EBIw *Written in honour of the many children who never returned home from residential schools in Canada. “it was the land” by pj johnson Poet Laureate of the Yukon. it was the land no one knew the evil men could do behind closed doors no one spoke of it no one said

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untitled: the monkeys in the wallpaper are oddly silent

the monkeys in the wallpaper are oddly silent slipping among shadows of jungle palms in the night as we sleep unaware under our canopied beds and bed becomes forest floor under leaf canopy and the forest softly creeps into the dusky space as we sleep unaware under our canopied beds dream of dawn and a

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Thoughts of Fear

Fear could be a monster under your bed A scary movie Stuck in your head Fear could be trying something new The one opportunity That’s only up to you Fear could be no money in the account Bills to pay, mouths to feed But no dollar amount Fear could be not wanting to be alone

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A Shy Girl

Restless night, I lie awake, jitters for what tomorrow brings Morning rush, a bite of food, not nearly enough to sink in A new dress and shoes, my book bag full, but I’m left empty still this time Will they see me as I want, or will I just blend in? New faces smiling, others

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