Primarily a music critic and photographer, I have a love of poetry that exceeds, albeit barely, my ignorance of prosody. I live in Western Quebec a short distance from Ottawa, the Canadian capital. I spend a lot of time outdoors whence come most of my photographic inspirations and poetic impulses. I also spend a lot of time in concert halls, but that's another story.
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Comments about Richard Todd
I put the flowers you gave me when you came
Into a glass, and then gave back the vase
That wasn't mine. It never was the same.
Their happy petals turned and fell because
There were no roots. What might have been was spent
On fussy care and wordy wear. And yet
I kept them in the glass after you left
And drank their fading smiles with fond regret.
I'm not to be the sunny sky to you,
The silky soil that sifts between your toes
The warmth, the glowing fire to see you through
The nightly dew that freshens friendshp's rose.
Cut flowers wilt and die without much ...