Hut O' Saints

Clear in the middle of the preserve sits a Hut of Saints...

Africa Recalled

Recollections of African friendships/ Last night I sat in the half-dark of the theatre/ watching and listening to Black Umfolosi;/ seeing the ghosts of yesterday/ moving silently in the shadows./ Moyo, Mangate, Takawira, Msikavanhu;/ so close I could almost touch them/ - almost hear their breathing./ I heard the voices calling from the stage/ echoing louder than the distance of time;/ bringing past and present together/ in one loud dreaming moment./ Matambo, Ganza, Bepete, Chapurinyemba;/ all ghosts from the distant past/ - fleshed out by the men of today./ Colin Gordon-Farleigh © 2000

Hope

Strenuous days and nothing to believe in

when black coat men cast shadows

over empty streets

Dead inside I mourn the night they took you

your voice and defiance silenced for good

and like so many I understand ... entire poem

Vacation Neighbors

O chanting insects of the evening
on the north shores of Long Island,
what does your insistent clickering
signal from dusk till dawn?
Hey dudes party over here?
Hey ladies I’m looking for love?
Hear me, the loudest bug around?
Check out my stick in the ground?

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Toronto Island Aigin Larki

To My Sisters in Chores

When you clear up, you conform:
Dust away detritus
But also, let the tide wash away
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