Congratulations, Josephine LoRe

 

We are pleased to announce that "The Winds" has been added to our Dispensers!

You can read it on Calgary Short Story website: https://calgary.short-edition.com/story/1m/the-winds as well as in the Calgary Short Story Dispensers.

The Winds

where foothills snuggle western peaks
winds blow mercury from twenty below
to thirteen above in a day
the city duvetted
sky blue under silver-arc cloud
winter reprieve
snow-eater, the people call it
the Piikani, Kainai, Siksika
Chinook

whereas on that salt-surrounded
island of my parents’ birth
winds blow north across immense Sahara
intensifying heat
a sheet of red sand
falls with moisture drawn
from azure Mediterranean
blood rain
it is called in Sicily
Scirocco

last night
my Calgary sleep disturbed
red sand falling
across the face of troubled dreams 

We are pleased to announce that "Rhetorical Questions" has been added to our Dispensers!

You can read it on Calgary Short Story website: https://calgary.short-edition.com/story/1m/rhetorical-questions as well as in the Calgary Short Story Dispensers.

Rhetorical Questions

I asked the universe Now?
It said No. Wait.

Why not now?

Why does the earth turn despite the sinking of the polar caps?
Why do we see only the one face of the moon –
is the other ashamed by our travesty?
Why do planets revolve around the sun
and why doesn’t one break free
to start its own trajectory?
I would.

Why are there nebulae (or is that a nebulous question)
Why does mankind, regardless of country and continent of origin
create tales to explain the relative position of the stars?

Would I have a different zodiac if I were born in southern hemisphere
and why do the hands of their clocks
not run counterclockwise
the way their water
circles the drain?

If I am who I am because of the hour and place of my birth
why aren’t there more like me?

Are there more like me?

And why do questions seem more important in the dark?

Why are we not winter oxygen-starved with lack of leaves?
Why can we not breathe in water?
Why have we no wings?

Is language a blessing or a curse?

Why are these bodies so ill-prepared for life outside
No fur to keep us warm
no leather on our feet

And why are there no new mythologies?

© 2021 by poet Josephine Lia LoRe

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