Saturday, November 27, 2004
Fog all around the West End this morning, a giant grey horseshoe or bowl muffling the twang of the trolley wires and the trucks gearing up at the lights on Burrard.

The cherry tree on my morning walk that blooms twice yearly in early winter and late spring. Its tiny pink petals.

The cherry trees we made in grade school. A puddle of black ink on white paper. You breathe out through a straw, driving the ink up and out in rivulets to make the trunks and wet, smeared limbs. Dry the paper over the radiator. Tear pink tissue paper into tiny squares. Fold the edges up around an HB pencil's eraser to make "blossoms." A dab of Elmer's Glue. Attach and repeat.

Rain raking the gravel playing field outside.

The alders' dark trunks in the early dusk.

The musky smell of wet coats and boots in the cloakroom.

<< Home

Powered by Blogger

.post-title { display: none!important; }