This is a collaborative poem by one American and two Australian poets that explores Gerard Manley Hopkins’s philosophical themes found both in his poetry and in the personal struggles of his inner life.
It was New Year’s Day at eight in the morning when I looked out the window, hung over and blurry-eyed, to see my neighbour, Ivy…
Homing “So, you like it?” Navin asked Puja as they got into the car. “Mansfield Park…” Puja tossed the name into the air. “It is…
I stepped into the living room of my Uncle Bernie’s modest bungalow near Islington and Bloor. The banana yellow walls of the quaint room gave…
we are on our travels with
the remains of conversations we almost had,
promises cracked through the middle,
wrapped in the cloth that blinds us
The moon’s not yet quite there, and the buildings are hideous,
at most a woman on the corner, or a student lost in sartre and making the world’s riddles
By the time their sons learn the meaning of sunset,
only father’s hands remain,
and the plow and the field.
Today I raked a melody
with syllables culled from your lips.
But I miss you when you gather
chrysanthemums each morning;
Every month, The Reading Room showcases a short story, or excerpts of a book, from some of the greatest writers the world has ever seen.