Dreams
Look deeply into
My heart forever
Because I cannot
Live without you
Breathe without
The air you bring
Into these tired
Lungs touches of
Patience and joy
That linger long
After the day has
Ended and dreams
Have become real
Dreams: your love
Teacher Desks
My old desk was stamped out of steel
With a cold black plastic surface
It had four drawers
Two on the right
Two on the left
The bottom right drawer
Got stuck years ago
It was a fight to get into it
And I had to use my body
To free the foam alligator
That resides there along
My new desk is formed out of wood
It also has four drawers, but
Three on the right
And one in the middle
It is much smaller than my old desk
And I’m struggling
With the same amount of junk
Golden Glow
I love that time of day when the sun is going down;
Angles are wide and edges are dulled.
Wheels turn slower,
Peace comes easier, and
Empty branches that have withstood winter’s blasts
Feel the late day’s golden glow and are warmed
To the coming spring.
Annie notices these things as we drive
Down the snow-lined street,
Pointing out the ledger lines of colours
Above the rooftops.
These are the things I’ll remember.
Train Picture
She took her camera out
(not a phone, but a real camera)
And took a picture of the train
As it crawled across the bridge
She put the camera away
And went back to her coffee
Later today, or next week
Or five years from now
She’ll find that picture
Of the train on the bridge
And wonder why she took it
It’s just a train
On a bridge
On a sunny day
In September
Participation Pin
It was the 70s.
Grade 5, and spring was
giving way to summer.
And I was nose-down on
the asphalt
hands at my side
waiting for the whistle
to tell me to run
and move some blocks while
the stop watch
timed my feeble
attempt.
The Canada Fitness Award Program:
Flexed arm hang
Shuttle run (which I have
already detailed)
Long-distance running
Short-distance running
And probably some other equally
ridiculous measures of “fitness”
I’ve blocked out.
In the end,
I received a participation pin;
Presented, pushed into the centre
of a large paper plate.
I cried.
You Don’t Know
Should I have to
Tell you that
I cry when they
Play catch under the lights?
Do you need to
Know that
Little juncos and
chickadees bring
Me great joy on frigid, grey,
January days?
Will you remember
The times I went
Above and beyond
Any reasonable need for you?
Probably not.
Alien Buddha Press 