As jubilados (Spanish for retirees) we’re fans of Leonard Cohen who wrote: “Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.”
Quietly, our stockinged feet touch the cool, grey floor. Like a water droplet at the moment of landing, this concrete shell elongates. Pillarless. Seamless. Edgeless.
Someone asked me what I thought about while driving during our 79-day road trip this spring. Not much. But travelling through Wyoming, I was reminded
We heard one day in the car on CBC 2 Ben Hepner say some composers modelled their compositions on Fibonacci’s Series, like Claude Debussey for
here fallthe gingko leaves fluttering yellowfans cartwheeling freelyonto a carpetso radiant like old memoriesloosened by wind’s coolbreath (see how fall’s decayconvenespast golden moments) outshining daffodilswhich
Wrong Turns Kansai Airport to Mountain-Top Koyasan weary of tunnels,in the Fukuchiin Templewe sleep near the monks Koyasan’s Okunoin, Japan’s Largest Cemetery graveyard night tourFukuchiin
The Florescence of Peonies A coral bud, hard, petals tightly wound ’round your heart the day we brought you home. Look at you now! Poised,
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