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From the archives

Paper Rout

Postmedia in the gutter

Past Trauma

Richard Wagamese and an Indigenous literary resurgence

Family Pride

Profiles in gay life


All night my dreams snowed letters. Singly

and in sheaves, envelopes fell into my hands,

big manilas and tissue-thin airmails,

some with Chinese script and Chinese stamps.

Pages folded and signed. On red stationery inside

a red envelope, a shout of congratulations.


And me carrying armfuls to the mailbox.

Waking, I wondered at this paper blizzard.

Mid-day I found my forgotten letter

to you in the bottom of my pack, stamped

and addressed, promises


to visit next spring. And now arrives

the call from your wife—your stroke,

your memorial. Ah, god, Michael,

which is worse, a farewell or none at all?


Maureen Hynes has published six books of poetry, most recently Take the Compass.