Poetry tea: Margaret Avison
Red apples hang frozen in a stick-dry, snow-dusty network of branches, against lamb’s wool and pastelblue of sky, a crooked woodenness, a wizzening red. – Margaret Avison, Sunblue (23, 1-5)
Red apples hang frozen in a stick-dry, snow-dusty network of branches, against lamb’s wool and pastelblue of sky, a crooked woodenness, a wizzening red. – Margaret Avison, Sunblue (23, 1-5)
Fair warning: a little intense and deepy-deep for your Friday. But this is my wish for someone I love deeply… You coddle your pain like a newborn. You nurture him.…
I heard Barbara Marx Hubbard recount the time she once invited Maslow to coffee. She sought to learn more about the field of psychology and wanted to surround herself with…
“There’s never too much clapping, Bubba.” We stood at the National Arts Centre in a standing ovation following the performance of the Messiah. By the third standing ovation, my hands…