Mont Jacques-Cartier

Given the curve of the horizon, here is surprisingly appropriate poem, written more than 20 years ago, which captures our hike up the highest peak in southern Quebec.

The World is Round
When I close my eyes
the grass is parched hair
and the sky is old slate,
but I am not lonely.
This is a nervous habit –
the way I think, the way I dance
without sound, like a cat
floating through empty hallways
searching for mice.
When I wonder, I hear
a sunbeam in the ocean
where I am nothing but a tear drop
falling into morning shadows.
And when I sing,
it is the departure of sparrows
fleeing the madness of earth.
The moon is happy
and yesterday means nothing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s