Archive for April 14th, 2009

Toronto, Ontario

Canadian Socks

My navy thermal socks had Canadian flags

sewn on, the size of postage stamps

and no, I didn’t sew them there myself

they came that way. But always I’d feel

proud in my other countries

wearing socks that had seen the insides

of boots designed for skis, those steel

buckles clamping down. And if one fold

of underwear made a lump beneath

the sock, the lump would make a knot of pain

and bruise the leg. And knowing these socks

had lived a sensitive, dutiful life and now

resided in climates where they weren’t essential,

made me feel exotic to myself. At least to my

feet. And tender. Now the socks have

lost their flags, one at a time they came unstuck

and flapped, and then they disappeared.

So many washing machines, so many dryers.

The socks have stayed together, a matching pair

in spite of the risk, the high rate

of divorce among socks, and despair.

But the flags are gone.

The flags are gone.

© Ronna Bloom Published in Queen’s Quarterly, 2001

As of April 16, 2009, Ronna Bloom will have published four books of poetry. Her spanking new book Permiso is published by Pedlar Press. Ronna works as a teacher of poetry and prose and as a psychotherapist. She is currently Poet in Community at the University of Toronto. www.ronnabloom.com


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Toronto, Ontario

Crane Lake 1

We all speak of depth

as if the water mirrored something

more profound than the dragon-fly

that lands nonchalantly on your arm.

Or the snapping turtle that hovers near,

its craggy face blowing bubbles

thru the lattice of sunlight … the gleam

of an ancient presence that ignores

all around it … even our god himself.

We all speak of silence

as if the momentary glimpse

of loon should make us hush

in awe. Should make us forget

the rivulets of a dying lamp

pointed at the very centre of our betrayal.

We all speak of memory

as if … as if …

Michael Mirolla

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