Higgledy piggledy
Hither and yon

Feeding and
Nesting and
Breeding and
Gone

Higgledy piggledy
Hither and yon

Dropping on blanket
And picnic
Undone

Not so much
Morphing

As
Sagging-

Tick-tock

One more year
On the clock

i.

spring's grey moons
everything is still
the hush of the skies.


ii.

first new buds
white cloud of hawthorn
morning's broken ghosts.

iii.

strengthening sun,
iron and feathers sky,
bird like a speck.

iv.

blue edge of sky
sunlight on flashy wings
empty world.

v.

clouds of drowning white
blowsy sweetened breeze
tall grasses sway.

vi.

last winter gust,
shadow on the earth
song of the rain.

vii.

surreal morning tide
hurrying wave
kiss for my love.

viii.

sea-spray hits a sail
anchor lowered down
ropes thrown to shore.

i think i may like to travel to small places,

old and full of history. deep aged fabrics

stained with the words of time. to touch.

On my last subway ride
I fixate on the plastic map that rims the gap above the exit.

My eyes follow from Ossington, west down the line two.
I stare with such detail.
If the subway weren’t so packed
maybe I’d steal that map for myself.
Put my hands on each corner
and pull out the edges from their holders.
Roll it up into my hoodie
and sneak out like I’d stolen a priceless jewel.
Too many people on the subway I thought, that’s why I won’t.

I take the 44 home from the subway,
and think about how ***** it feels.
How it wasn’t the storybook ending I imagined.
Where everyone hugs and maybe someone cries.
The sky was grey and I was running errands.

As I left for the train station early next morning
I thought about how I may never see these buildings the same way. You have to be in the city to see the buildings this way.
Looking out at the patios that riddle the downtown outskirt condo’s, each floors’ stacked on top of another.
How nice it must be to live so close to a skyline.
How nice it must be to stand outside and still miss the rain.

thank god i can’t write good poetry
the best poetry comes from pain and hurt if you ask me
so although i can’t write like i used to
at least it means i’m doing alright