Trix


The cat likes it

when I open the top t shirt drawer in the dresser

so she can plunk down and snooze.

The dog sometimes yips and whines in her dreams,

other times she runs there too.

This is my year for odd and odder dreams.

Flying head first along the streets

of my old neighbourhood in Toronto, my body

six inches off the asphalt.

Also many nights when sleep is elusive like tonight.

In the last savage storm I watched the trees toss their heads

and consider snapping their limbs but they held on.

The two maples and the oak that we,

my older sister, my parents, and I together planted

Forty four years ago. They stand now fifty feet high

on Georgian Bay. I will miss them if they

lose their fight with our strange new storms.

I have always loved them like

the little brothers and sisters

I never had.

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Author: William J. Gibson

62 year old - writer/photographer Canadian, survived open heart surgery, received kidney transplant, sometimes dour, sometimes amusing, over six feet in height, severely follicle challemged

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