Charles Bane Jr.'s The Chapbook — Mother and Father

I dreamt of you together
in a sunny field,
walking to me,
smiling.
Is this true?

Dialogue Between a Past and Present Poet

Past poet, present poet. Left shoe, right shoe.

Past Poet
I wrote of roses on a woman's breast,
Glowing as though her blood
Had welled out to a spellbound fierceness;
And the glad, light mixture of her hair.
I wrote of God and angels.
They stole the simple blush of my desire
To make their isolated triumph human.

On The Road: Ottawa, Tulips and Sidewalk Chalk

Other than being the political capital of Canada, Ottawa is known for two things: The frozen skateway known as the Rideau Canal and; the spring time Tulip Festival. Along with thousands of tourists converging upon Dow's Lake on the festival's last weekend to admire the myriad tulips on display we looked down and came across these poetic pauses written in chalk.

We've attributed the "anonymous" pauses where possible and have linked to biographical information on the authors. The following thoughts came to our collective consciousness first, through Chinese philosophers, American businesswomen and even the last line of the comedy TV series, The Office.

Breakfast Snow

One does not expect
to see a snowflake Mid-May
on their weather map app

The flurries had flown
in the dark of the night
before it was time for bed

The creaking hall floor
gave reason to rise
early this Sunday morn

You

You,
who are my compass, my spirit,
who guides me through this amazement,
even without my knowing.
You, who leads me to drink the sweet water
that flows so freely in the rivers of your soul.
You, who nourish me with the flesh of your being
as my sustenance.

I Dream of Sushi

Words on a fortune cookie: You have the ability to sense and know higher truth.

It was at that moment
In the dull hours before the dawn
That I stirred from my sleep

The world beyond my window
was shrouded in a fog glowing orange
Illuminated by the lamppost
Standing at attention