A Scent
There, by the scented orange blossom, the hovering bumble bee stretches and snaps Sir Isaac Newton’s law. Agog in the summer air and the content of its flow, that single … Continue reading A Scent
Author: margaretjoyce1358
teacher, poet, enthusiast, and former child and youth protection social worker in Montreal QC.
Dandelion Wars
In the hollow of summer, sun pours down into sidewalk cracks, shores up gold- helmeted soldiers for urban turf warfare, where idylls of sameness drive mowers that cut the poor … Continue reading Dandelion Wars
Heard Music
The songs in The Underground Opera are a little bit hard to hear, at first. In the slippage of days, long run on the stage, moms’ minor key melodies … Continue reading Heard Music
Early Days at St. Aloysius
White-knuckled nuns rang hand- bells at recess. They tried hard to tame us. At noon we ran from the cloakroom, to dawdle on train tracks, go Indian file on hot … Continue reading Early Days at St. Aloysius
Dream
Last night in a dream, I flew through time with a dogsled team, camped in an igloo at a vast river’s edge. By seal oil fire for iron- banded tea … Continue reading Dream
Evensong
The day we buried Daddy– it’s not that I was happy, but I heard a robin singing to my left, in a tree, somewhere high– It’s not that I was … Continue reading Evensong
Sky Aria
Over Ville Marie, thunder clouds bloom today and raindrops start their patter on my windshield, like scurrying nuns late for mass, rosary-beads flying like the traffic on Ste-Catherine Street this … Continue reading Sky Aria
Inner City Respite
A grey-haired, gap-toothed lady swept in from the coast today with poetry in her plastic bag. She’s coming back at four, for bandaids, food and shelter. Brilliant blue cow-vetch and … Continue reading Inner City Respite
margaretmaryjoyce 