1986

Dresses and flowers and looking just right
All those years ago

Then

Time
And 
Tragedy
And
Distance
And 
Disconnect
And

I don’t know you

Anymore

(not really)


There’s a hole there now

There

Where you used to be

And

I feel that void 

(from time to time)

And

It fills with sorrow/regret/guilt

Do you feel that hole too

That way

Do you

Poppa 

I look to you

What to do
What to do
What to do

See You In The Funny Papers

I miss the days
Of daily newspapers and three channels on tv and two (mainly) on the radio 

I miss the days 
When everyone mostly said and read the heard the same thing

I miss the days 
Of reading the Saskatoon Star Phoenix
And the
Snap and crinkle and woosh and sigh 
Of the paper being read

I miss the days
Of friendliness

When everyone was listening to the same voices 
(mostly)
And laughing at the same jokes

I miss the days 
Of daily cartoons
(the best ones ending up on the fridge or the bulletin board at work)

I miss the weekend funny papers
And racing to see them first

I miss the days 
When
'See you in the funny papers'
Meant something

Don't you?

It Wasn’t You

Poplars yellow
And I go back

On horseback
Trailing behind your
Broad back
On horseback too

But It wasn’t you
I longed for

The day couldn’t have been more perfect

Sun
Fall
Trees
Breeze
Horses

But

It wasn’t you
I longed for

When Your Dad’s an Electrician

When your Dad's an electrician

And has a HUGE ring of keys

To every door

(Every)

At the university


He’s obviously in charge

(Obviously)


And when there’s a storm raging outside

And the power goes out

And your Dad gets called in

And he goes 

In

To save the world


Obviously

Eight

The Penny

The stark thrill of 

Laying a penny on the track

Knowing it might derail a train

It might!

A whole train

(Which of course couldn’t be true?  Could it?)

So much power in a penny

So much power in my small hand

But

Who would give so much power to a penny?

Who would give so much power to me? 

Ten

The Space

I wish I could
Fill up the space
You left behind

If I could be you
When only you will do

But
 
There’s no way
To fill up the space
You left behind

Jill

Snowbird

Farm front room
Blah brown stereo
Girl cousins singing
Anne Murray’s Snowbird
We couldn’t possibly be cooler 
Twelve


Your Hands

Your hands
Lined with grease and strong with hard work
Warm my screaming fingers and toes
Protesting that I stayed too long on the ice

Who can come in?
On a perfect Saskatchewan winter night
Ice Cold
Clear Sky
Skates scraping
We are magical and powerful
And we skate and skate till we can’t feel our fingers and toes anymore
And then the  rink shack beckons us with it’s 
Warm fire and 
Smell of wet wool and
 Export A cigarettes and 
Black rubber mats and 
Your hands.  

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