Anodyne
Sunday, June 08, 2008
 
Just Some Little Shit in Love With Your Eyes

Rain overnight, the brisk west wind whipping and teasing long trellisses of cloud all out across the harbor and the southern tip of Bowen Island. Raindrops on the deep green leaves of the big maple tree on the corner. Laying my hand against its thick gnarled trunk. Moss-bearded, russet and lime. Sunday's empty streets: scattered applause from the triathalon crowd with its Pentaxes and slick black Gor-Tex "shells." Cell cameras capturing all the action: lathered cyclists rounding the tight corner onto Davie, tires slipping on the wet pavement.


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