I walk through my
childhood neighbourhood.
Just because,
I lean against the lamp post
I held up every morning
in grade seven
as I waited for the bus.
Different weather
but always too
early in the morning.
More rusty,
it hummed
a greeting
remembering
(or maybe
that was me).
It was a moment,
a frozen smile
caught forever.
A photograph
recording you
as I longed for
you to be.
A moment when
happiness pushed
away illness and
illuminated
all our dreams
Her
howling,
stomping,
tearful
tantrum done,
the sky is blushing
with embarrassment.
Your brown eyes
watch me with an intensity
of adoration that makes my heart glow.
Whenever I come home,
you greet me at the door,
quivering in delight.
You follow me throughout the house
set your head across my knees,
gaze longingly into my eyes.
I scratch your ears and you sigh,
with a satisfaction that trembles
up your spine.
“Such a good boy,” I say,
and your tail thumps
in lazy agreement.
.
You gather me into you
Entangling limbs and
Tickling kisses on the neck.
.
Your breath tangles in my hair
Escaping through quivering tendrils
Trembling into the night.
.
Your heartbeats drum against my back
Exquisite timpani.
Time stops.
Like two hookers
in black vinyl trench coats
the crows stroll between the yellow lines
each watching the traffic
with one jaundiced eye.
The birch trees
are splattered with new green.
Buds like pretty envelopes, unfold
to reveal letters greeting
summer.
Tonight
walking to the mailbox
I am stalked by mist
The lights blink through
the neighbours trees:
stars above,
down town below.
It’s so black between the lamps,
I expect deep quiet,
beneath the rustle of new leaves,
but the highway hums in the distance.
Trucks travel with an insistent drone
that climbs the hill to my house,
and silence suffers
in the hustle of their incessant transitions.
Today the lake is glass
Polished and glistening
Sparkling and shimmering
Getting ready for the party
that summer will bring.
Shawn L. Bird 