these are not poems
I look back over these “poem a day” entries, I see my life reflected in four to sixteen-line purges.
Search Results for: The Leaving
Storms Above
The biting rainwater dripping down my back melds with something deeper, some knowing. The crow is still here.
Fear of Looking Forward
Anticipation is vulnerability. The looking-forward to small pleasures was getting him through these dark days of lockdown.
2022 Place and Home Contest Results
Congratulations to the winners of the 2022 Dreamers Creative Writing Stories of Migration, Sense of Place and Home Contest.
Good Fences
Marja would write the curse, seal it in a film canister, and then, in the guise of being a welcoming neighbour, bury it in the roots of whatever Marja planted in the garden as a gift.
YYZ
As the video conference ended, quiet tears poured down her cheeks. She felt very small as if someone had taken her voice away.
Breakdown
I buy admission to the tattered big top amidst a hundred or more whose skin is the color of my own.
Abiola Regan Poetry Collection
My blue ocean sadness. Kept from you, hidden from view. So I keep docking at the same port of hurt.
Sprinkling Fairy Dust
With trembling hands, Millie gently removed the lid of the urn and exhaled with the first release of gray powder.