wear a mask at all times

signs line the

h a l l w a y in the hospital

here at the front lines

in the fight against this new

s t r a i n

as we keep our         d i s t a n c e and

isolate and

glove up and

do not gather and

cover our smiles

remove our humanness

to keep alive as people

but each day the smiles r a d i a t e

through the masks

and we connect six feet a p a r t

waving through the window

at friends out for a walk

water beads

begin with tiny dreamy orbs

multi-coloured

hard

hundreds

pour bouncing into clear tub

add water splashing

till tub is half-full and

wait       wait       wait       and they will

grow      grow      grow

taking on water to become

soft worlds of neon

purpleorangepinkyellowtealblueblackandsparklingclear

and we like to

sort        them

into little bowls

of gleaming dreams

psalm XVI

north wind winters through

picking up

licks

of snow

lining down roads and ditches

leaving curved organic roadside ridges

of manic March

on this lonely prairie mindscape

waiting for spring

COVID-19-POEM

in these days children still laugh and play

in these days we do what we can

in these days we try not to worry

in these days blue sky and sun

in these days we wash our hands

in these days we watch the news

in these days we do not hoard

in these days snow starts to melt

in these days so much disappointment

in these days all plans in doubt

in these days we make music

in these days we make art

in these days we write

in these days we connect carefully

in these days we take care of each other

in these days love still wins

my mother's crossing

leaning on the salted railing of the Volendam

June 1948  

facing west with weary eyes that have seen it all

looking to start again in Canada

25 years old

refugee

six years of war

movement

upheaval

she will count on the kindness

of near strangers

in a far land

goes down

below deck to create another home

in small berth with

mother and sister

they have left her brother behind

and this is what her mother speaks about

hands wringing

eyes welling

how will three women make it

so far from the familiar

and they all begin to weep with

fear

sadness

relief

anticipation

hope

despair

not knowing the iron

in the spine of all three of them

will see them through

these resilient bodies (for Lisa)

Winnipeg wind shudders Main street’s homeless

         we park and hunch to the edge

brave boy plays an old upright

for quarters  

rooms busy

teeming life and completion

these bodies so new to this winter wind

stand proud

hands                    on                           hips

yellow shirt with coloured heart

ready to love past the trauma

on the wall

f  e  a  t  h  e  r

against the white world

surviving the past into the present

protects these framed prints of

fledgling

fearsomeness

so

don these boxing gloves

and stand your

sacred ground

thoughts on a February afternoon

saw a bald eagle on my

way home Emerson would have been

proud clung powerfully to an upper branch white

head against blue sun

warming shoulders where wings fold in and around

built to see

and soar

and dive

to grapple

and climb

rodents and fish helpless in her grasp

talons tight as she ascends

no mercy

on my way home saw a

bald eagle