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On The Frozen Canal Lachine, Montreal
A poem
Apr 12, 2022
Lone skater on the river
slicing and weaving the ice
into a scarf of crystals
shadow clinging like an echo
empty factory eyes above
hung with ghosts, their blank faces
mirror the sunset
blushes of evening, kisses of pink sun
two empty red chairs dream
of summer days, watching children
paddle in the dark, swirling river
water is a frozen memory
the trees are thinking of leaves
their fingers brittle with wanting
the skater circles again, a perfect eight
his blades writing into tomorrow.
(This poem was originally written from a beautiful photo by my friend, Matthew Hollett, whose work you can see on Instagram — https://www.instagram.com/matthewhollett/) — so not the photo above because of copyright.
