Naramata rocks.This evening I notice
how I'm planning
my life; my time –
moving towards lively decisions
with an atlas beside me.
How far is it from
Montréal to Boston, Boston to Chicago –
Edmonton to Halifax and back?
This evening I notice
how home isn't just one place
where I've lived –
or a few places that whisper to me
to return again and again.
Home is something I can fold carefully
like a map along well-worn creases
and keep in my pocket
with important rocks,
keys, bits of string.
I will continue my own
small work in the great work.
My map, some questions
and the contents of my pocket
will show me how.
April 30th, 2008
Edmonton, AB
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1 comment:
oh! i like the photo of the shoreline... it fits well with the liminality of your poe-hem, too -- i like muchly the bit about the home folding up along its map-creases to fit in a pocket! love!
i am very very glad you said you will be posting more poetry & writing bits here, i look forward to them. ja.
also -- naramata rocks: did you mean just that those are stones from naramata in the picture? because i read it like, 'naramata rocks! DUDE!' that kind of rocks... teehee ;)
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