the phone calls would come — just after dinner time She would reach out across the miles and connect through a coiled cord — “ah-huh — he’s here — yes, Hadrian’s Wall — got it — I’ll tell him — yes, of course — I love you too, Mom” express more fully and in greater…
Ekadent
Ekadent the child in her unwinds the wool of words solitaire hummingbirds hover as she plays upon a butterfly table history bookworm devours the unbroken spines of libraries cookies a girl-guide hand reaches into depression glass friendship pilgrims ring brass bells through the Oregon grape trumpets big band jazz carpets lazy story-telling afternoons grammar disciplines…
My Cherished Canadian Recipe … My Grandma’s Soup
My Grandma nourished me. When she passed away seven years ago, she left a hole in my world; and much like the hole left in Haida Gwaii’s Cathedral Forest when its giant Golden Spruce was tragically removed, a space nonetheless remains even while on its verges new growth finds space. I have survived, even thrived,…