Fire
This time and these stars and this smoke rising. Your hands on the girl and her hands on stone, the night so black the sound travels years to meet itself at the start. CLICK ON THE RECORDING TO LISTEN
Atlas goes paddling
Plunge and pull, your paddle the best of you, your arms reaching — elbow, wrist, fist — into the black. And the boat cuts on. CLICK ON THE RECORDING TO LISTEN
Quiet Morning at Ocean Pond
Morning: the rise and fall of tiny chests, the tide in them. The old sun going on and on. CLICK ON THE RECORDING TO LISTEN
Trade route
You are knees and curls, a palette of surprise. Rehearsing a way home, your feet too small to carry you. CLICK ON THE RECORDING TO LISTEN
Squeaky snow
Feet slicing over the snow, the sky a riot of blue. Lull the babies to the huf-huf of legs pumping, and the dog racing ever onward. CLICK ON THE RECORDING TO LISTEN
Collingwood reverie
The snow a country here. The busy birds. An earnest hand: surrender. But ask the boys and they’ll say it’s a backside smooth as Sunday morning. CLICK ON THE RECORDING TO LISTEN
Toronto taxi
Go. You. Stop. Go. Brake. Dart. Weave. Are. Bolt. Stop. Now. Some. Merge. Where. Fast. Go. Switch. In. Stomp. And. Stomp. Watch. This. Act. Now. Don’t. Think. Go. Town. CLICK ON THE RECORDING TO LISTEN
Toronto busker
He dreams of water. The sawing of the bow and her skirts alive, salt on the tongue. CLICK ON THE RECORDING
Subway violin
Fingers on strings pulling the day on and on to the tap-tap of busy shoes. CLICK ON THE RECORDING TO LISTEN