Tag Archives: Winter

Bread in Burnside

It was on an anti-poverty Facebook group

a comrade posted the picture of bread from the Burnside supermarket

very different from the suburbs

most of them live.


$6 a loaf for 30 hour sourdough,

brown and crustedly rounded, a sprinkle of seeds

but as someone remarked

“it still looks the same

when it comes out of the dumpster”


Someone sneered at fake-poverty-chic

and faker empathy

and someone is getting ready to go out

on a cold July night

to dumpster dive for the community.


Panis Angelicus: Corpus Christi

not just in Burnside

but in the solidarity of the starving

because we are the angels, the prophets

our message is Word and Bread

cold street word and dumpster bread

the body, the real presence


Foolish Blossoms

I write creatively (stories and poems) whether I am supposed to or not. Mostly these connect in some way to my spiritual life. While I was unemployed I had time to share them in a couple of groups, but now I have nowhere to share them but I still write. So I will share them here in view of my blog (and not necessarily every week). My church is near a garden and I have a tendency to run early. As a result I had a chance to walk in the garden and think about life, nature and being.

Sometimes I am like a tree

impatient for spring in August,

which at the first sign

of mild weather bursts into blossoms

too early, overenthusiastic

and frail against winter’s last

strong breaths of frost.


Resilient plants know

to put forth only hope at first;

to hold the singing birds gently, lightly;

stay bare-branched and watch

knowing something will awaken

even without the desperation.