City film

Its the first day of spring today and the thermometer told of a balmy -37 degrees when the sun rose.

I've been laying low as of late, going to work, coming home and repeat with the odd grocery trip, or coffee date. I catch my sun through bus windows and daily conversations with the regulars revolve around the weather and how full the parking lot is.

But the sun will draw me out of my hibernation and someday I may even become a proper citizen again. 

Until then my ears are filled with Tegan and Sara,

 My head with dreams of our train trip to Montreal in May 

and my boots are filled with snow.

Whats getting you through the winter?

Yours,

K

Coffee shop senses

She sits.

The world goes by.

A Jewish funeral procession drives slowly past, 

the black cars follow each slowly down the snow fill streets.

Above the street the tree's stand silent. Their skeletal branches sway gently as the new snow rests on them for a second then falls down the roofs and the street.

The sounds of coffee beans meeting gears.

The small room is flooded,leaving a dark sweet woody smell in its wake.

She savours the smooth gentle burst of bittersweet earl grey and milk on her tongue. 

The cold air from the door, constantly opening and closing seeps into her jeans and she huddles deeper into the folds of wool around her shoulders.

Her cup is nearly empty. She sighs, knowing that its almost time to leave this

 cozy alcove.

But she leaves with warm feeling not only from a stomach full of tea, but because she knows 

its good to get away, 

its good to think. 

Or not to think.

Its important to immerse yourself with strangers and to get out of your own head.

She stands, gathers her things and walks out the door.

The smell of coffee swirls out the door with her, mixing with the snowflakes and the trees.

and the world seems a little less grey.


Yours,

K

Lace and Ice

I tried on my dress and remembered 
The sound of music,
 The feel of bare feet on dusty ground,
 The smell of water in the wind off the lake 
and the feeling of your arms around my waist.

I remembered grasshoppers caught in crinoline 
Tears on cheeks
and the squeak of bow on strings.

I remembered the sun on flags,
and water purifying feet
I remember walking toward as one
and running back as two.

I remember.


Yours,

K