Big City Blues
Morning’s journey is a trail
of cement sidewalks
March garbage blowing
in the wind
last night’s pizza
a ball of pasta in my belly.
People crowding life’s
destination, scooting to the bus stop
amber lights glaring
downtown skyscrapers
stretching
with imagination
paths arrow-straight
as a flashlight beacon
and I, a stranger in Hamilton city.
Not long ago I walked
forests of green
canoed to the thrill of a loon
watched lovers coo on Atlantic’s
shore, back in Nova Scotia
my home.
© 2005 Richard L. Provencher
first published by Word Catalyst Magazine
A Magazine for Creative Expression
Vol. 2 No. 8 – March 2009
