What it felt like becoming a father
I remember the stifling heat the day our first child was born. I remember taking my wife for a slow walk around the neighbourhood, holding her hand.
I remember taking her to the hospital, meeting our midwife there. I remember the birthing room, airy and comfortable. I remember the air conditioning.
I remember sitting in the tub . . .
Posted in: fatherhoodparents
A pandemic virtual travel tour
We can't really travel that much, so I dug out some poems from previous travels. I hope it gives you a feel for these places.
Witty's Lagoon
cool forest march
breathe mist
get the gist
prehistoric machination
giant fern fascination
mossy acer macrophyllum
look up!
smell the ocean
tide is out
sit on driftwood
unwrap your . . .
The Reckoning
A rant
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Image: Weidenbach / CC BY-SA
THE RECKONING
Somethin' brewin' in my mind
can't pinpoint malaise I will in time
so much conflict strife bad news
sometimes I think what's to lose
do I sit back in comfort nest retreat
do I stand up for what I believe
ay there's the rub what do I believe
beyond platitudes and saying
the fashionable . . .
Posted in: globalizationpoetryracismrantslam
Between a rock and a kind place
Pay it forward. Make the world a little better
Community caring rock garden, near Carson Grove Elementary School, Ottawa
Small acts of kindness can pay large dividends. Those who give these small acts may not be aware of all their effects. But they can create ripples of goodwill down the road.
I like to run in the morning, before my kids wake up. Calms my mind. Exercise . . .
I am Grateful
A poem
I AM GRATEFUL
I am grateful for my mistakes,
anxieties and fears
they give rise to my courage,
for those I hold dear
I am grateful for having
been broken, in pain
so hope can rebuild,
dissolve all the blame
I am grateful to be alive;
my next breath fills my lungs
I am grateful to feel old
and also feel young
I am grateful in every . . .
Poems to be alone together
Image: Pxhere
One thing my family is doing more of during isolation is reading together. My boys dusted off some old standbys—the Harry Potter series.
As my younger son read The Philosopher's Stone, my older son read The Half-Blood Prince. I stared at them. When did they get so old?
I was moved to write some poems . . .
Posted in: bedtimebrothersharry potterpoetry
Just another Saturday in isolation
Image: Sarah C, Creative Commons
SHE MAKES MUFFINS and pancakes, boys read at kitchen table. Cat suns herself by patio door. Mush, mush, she mixes ingredients in stainless steel mixing bowl, green plastic mixing bowl to her right. She reads recipe on top of microwave. Grabs some things out of fridge, crunch crunch, cracks eggs. . . .
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