Edited by Alloe Mak PROLOGUE: Enter THE PLAYWRIGHT, there she is again, at a desk, at a stage, […]
Author: Miya Mastrofini
It feels like every poem I’ve ever written has, in some way or another, been about spring. Ironically, […]
I see the same barn in every Southern Ontario field
Feet cold, pressed on the linoleum floor.
She feels it all around her,
But not in her.
Not yet.
Dear dove,
You brought me to words. I hope you are reading this.