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"Poetry is the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash." Leonard Cohen

Tuesday, November 11, 2014


Outside the family room window, winter is wailing,
covering the landscape the way it does, with blankets
of quartz-coloured flakes and ice.
Arctic-scented wind whistles down the chimney, whining
for a way in. but we're ready to beat it back.
Birch logs stacked and eager for the flame, are waiting
in the fireplace grate.

If you choose to live here in this place older than time,
you accept that Summers are fleeting;
Spring and Autumn, mere brackets of the concise warm one,
Spring is also the muddy release from the grip of short dark
days, and extended nights.
Autumn, the most colourful season, the brilliant overture
of kindness gentling us into the grip of our heritage—
Winter—in Edmonton, it's timeless.

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