Early Morning Silence

There are times when 

I don’t like being alone. 

Times when silence deafens.

~ when early morning is dark; 

no traffic on the streets; wind 

not furring thro' naked trees; 

when I feel solitary; alone 

in this building of families; 

this city of workers 

  and lovers 

    and children. 

times when my ears ringing are 

the only sound that I hear

The cat is even silent, fed and content

~ not yet breathing his funny buzzsaw snore. 

But I know that I have just 

awakened in this early morning

~  that the building has yet to 

yawn awake; the city still sleeps.

There may be another like me 

across the street or across the city 

who also feels the calming sound 

of early morning silence.

“Go placidly amid the noise and haste, 

and remember what peace there may be in silence.”

~ Max Ehrmann,  Desiderata

Where is The Poetry?

Where is the poetry in today?

A hot, muggy day filled with banking, 

groceries, pet supplies, 

hair care needs, 

bus rides to and fro. 

to be greeted by the cheerful bank teller; to see students and grandmothers; parents with their children or wee ones in strollers; moving around the city, 

it is too easy for me to be 

critical of how people walk or talk; 

picking at the minutia flowing all around me; a Babel of languages rippling through the hot afternoon.

to feel the kindness of the young man 

who called out from his bicycle: “Be careful” 

when I crossed the street;

seeing the tiredness on the face

of the young mother next to me on the bus,

to hear the laughing chatter of teenagers 

in their last days of summer before school.

This is the poetry of the city.

“Poetry is what happens when nothing else can.”

~ Charles Bukowski, poet, novelist, writer

(1920 - 1994)

City Trails

Easy to follow along, 

leaving no footprints yet

imprinting your energy 

as you pass under trees 

lining the street.

Solid grey paths that lead 

to a library, a park, a store, 

or museum where life is 

bought and paid for with 

plastic or coin or the time 

it takes to make a path 

under ancient trees,

down to the restless water; 

skirting spring geese 

searching the murky shore.

Returning home, following 

a new cement trail that boasts 

cracks that heave from 

winter freeze and spring thaw 

under trees lining the street.

“I took the one less traveled by and that has made all the difference.”

~ Robert Frost

A Wandering Eye

Such interesting things catch 

my eye when I’m out walking. 

A baby’s sock for instance. 

I wonder if the little one’s toes 

are cold, when it was noticed 

if there was a blanket and then 

I walk on and notice a mitten, 

left over from last winter still 

hanging from a twig, and my 

gaze shifts to a pink rock, midst 

a small yard of grey, beautiful 

in its difference. And there’s the 

leaves. In spring, their green haze  

wakens the trees; in summer, the 

trees are full of their life; in fall, 

they are dyed, dried, and curled, 

in winter there are hangers on 

that blacken against the snow. 

Noticing these things shows many

moments and progress of a city’s life.

“Keep your world small, keep your focus on the thing 

right in front of you and slowly wideout that world-view.”

~ Victor J. Glover, NASA Naval Aviator

A City Walk

The plan: walk to an office, fill out some paper work, go for coffee, read my book and return home. It was simple enough. A city bus would carry me most of the way there and back. As I stepped on the street I felt a different kind of homeness

The home of this prairie city that is familiar and yet not. After a long absence, changes do not hide the bones of the city I love. Familiar buildings, all of them weathered from hot dusty winds or bitter icy winds. The dry cleaning shop on Albert Street, the library 

with its red, yellow and blue bicycle props, the city park in the city centre with old elm trees shading criss cross sidewalks, a cenotaph the centre ~ people stroll or sit on scattered benches. This world of nostalgia ended with orange wire fencing, the grasping, scraping noise of construction and signs indicating hard hats! Blocked one way, 

I followed a man delivering a bouquet of flowers through the maze. My business complete, I returned to the maze. Trails through the maze led me to the coffee shop. A quieter stroll along store fronts selling 

eye glasses or bride’s dresses took me to the bus stop and home.

“[Walking] is the perfect way of moving 

if you want to see into the life of things.”

~ Elizabeth von Arnim, 

The Adventures of Elizabeth in Rügen

(August, 1866 - February, 1941)

On an Afternoon Walk ~ Regina Architecture

Joists and joints strained and straining for a hundred years? Repairs, replacements, restructuring on the inside and the outside? Must have been for housing people. The brick work, the details - so very beautiful. Many such buildings are throughout the city. Some in better condition than others, some more beautifully detailed than others but all are city seniors from another era.

“Architecture should speak of its time and place, 

but yearn for timelessness,”

~ Frank Gehry, 

(Canadian born, American architect)

While the City Slept

December 07, 2020
(too cold for a walk today)

Frigid air settled in

while the city slept,

politely changing

busy stop and go.

“Every mile is two in the winter.”

~ George Herbert

On an Afternoon Walk - Work in Progress

Fronting the Globe Theatre, 

bobcats sit silent in orange cages

dusty street brushed by the wind

one building tidy and clean while

pigeons flock, coo, strut and bow

cracking sidewalks wait their turn.

downtown clean-up: 

a work in progress.

“Progress lies not in enhancing what is, 

but in advancing towards what will be.”

~ Khalil Gibran, Lebanese writer, poet and artist

Prairie Skies

Broad sweeps of blue 

are prairie skies 

clouds frayed and shaped

by invisible wind

where minuscule birds 

dip and dive,

city skyline in miniature 

sits below its grandeur

vast prairie stretches to match its breadth

“The prairie skies can always make you see more than what you believe.”

~ Jackson Burnett, The Past Never Ends

City Nights

Exposed to the bright lights of the city ~

a sailing moon, 

  all the shooting stars and

    wisps of shadowy clouds

flatten, fade and disappear

in a once velvet sky

unless I look past 

those sharp streetlights with 

my child’s heart to let

the wisdom and magic of the night sky shimmer into my soul. 

“I wonder about silence. Also about darkness. I love the idea 

that city lights are a “conspiracy” against higher thoughts.”

~ Terry Tempest Williams

On An Afternoon Walk - Cautiously Unmasked

It’s been like an invisible brick wall ~

all the masks and distancing

But emerging from it all

brave businesses open up

Most patrons still masked ~

on the street, masks tucked away

Like a deep breath of fresh air

the city is cautiously unmasked.

“Don’t ever take a fence down until you know why it was put up.”

~ Robert Frost