A Poem by Denis Robillard

The Spirit World

Late autumn. Snow covers every inch of this place. No more walks to the Damm Festung or the Hauptkirche. A solitary black bird perched on a pine tree calls and cackles a wintry echo across a barren field. Northern winds murmur up and down the spines of endless trees. Something hollow like Scheidt’s Galliard Battlagia. Dolorous trumpets blow down dead gone leaves. There is a strangeness here even Leibniz would not understand. At every step I wake up ghosts in synaptically connected trails. Spirits know no boundaries. Everything is passable and transparent like a thin veil of ether.


Denis Robillard was born in Northern Ontario and now teaches high school in Windsor, CANADA. For the past 15 years several of his poems have appeared 90 times in the small presses and on line magazines across Canada, The USA, England and Scotland. Some of those include: Rattle, Rampike, Word Riot, Nashwaak Review, Algoma Ink, Cliff Soundings (Michigan), Sidereality, Orange Room Review, Dogzplot Magazine, Dusty Owl, Dufus and many more. In 2011 Robillard was published in Windsor Review, Bolts of Silk and Ottawa Arts Review. He is an avid photographer and traveler. You may see his article work on occasion in the pages of Hey Philippines Magazine.