battle stations
We are becoming polarized, divided and disconnected to the point that we seem completely unable to hear each other. It’s sad. This poem is about that. battle stations by…
We are becoming polarized, divided and disconnected to the point that we seem completely unable to hear each other. It’s sad. This poem is about that. battle stations by…
My mother’s room was at the end of the hall on the third floor of the nursing home. Her neighbour’s door was always open when I walked by. There…
I write with a friend twice a week in winter. Sometimes I write chapters for the book I’ve been working on for years and that may never be finished….
Snow falls in Canada in winter. Hard working crews clear our roads so we can get around. We appreciate it. This poem is about that. snow crew thank you…
All of a sudden, the world has gone wordle crazy. This poem is about that. wordle (the poem) by susan © 2022 wordle (the poem) puzzle lovers please beware…
This poem is a short prayer for Canadian riders in winter. c’mon spring by susan © 2022 c’mon spring when we are too long inside we get depressed and…
During COVID lockdowns, many of us found out how uncomfortable it can be to be confined. But Canadian motorcycle riders have known forever what that’s like: we get twitchy…
The first thing I see when I wake up every winter morning is fireworks. Silent, silver fireworks produced for no one but me. They are disguised as a Boston…
It’s all good. Until the six of them come up behind at – I’m guessing – well over 100 km/hr. We’re on the twistie that runs through Tatlock. It’s my…
I wish The Fox and I hadn’t crashed in early November. And I wish I hadn’t suffered a broken left wrist and dislocated thumb, which I learned this week…