The eagle feather flies and
the union flag buys its time
to share the courtroom;
the maple leaf is hoisted,
but often only to half-mast.
The little riverside shire
Where the hills
To meet the shore… or at least did
Before the age of ‘progress ‘.
You always get a smile
Before cold steel and stone
Exchange over wood.
The model for the new world,
Showing all skin, pale and stone;
The lungs of the Earth relegated to
Where only the crow and pigeon fly.
The journey begins.
The court of a king?
Poor but beautiful.
Lungs still breathe on its hills,
But the stone rises to meet.
A highway town,
And the train rolls steady East,
Past lots and walls; the burbs,
Epicenter of Dorval green.
High flies the fleur de lis;
Higher than any maple leaf.
Though the stars and stripes flash
Before the hotels,
no union flag in the wind.
The canal runs nearby dry
As a bench warmer wags a finger,
Perhaps of consternation,
At the train.
Diversity en Français. Vrai!
Charny and away.
Riviére-de-loup at midnight.
Living by the light of the Moon,
All the fallen, over the flatlands.
Trains make way for us, and we for them
Before the switch.
Rimouski and Amqui;
And time for mon petit dejeuner.
Jaquet Riviére, Petit-Rocher, and Bathurst
rolling with the hills and waves of
Miramichi will have to wait for me
As the ship and the lion take me on the tour.
Rogersville, Moncton, and Sackville
Will have to wait as I push East to Amherst,
Nova Scotia; onward to the coast!
Truro: quaint little farm town
And gateway home –
Take me on to Halifax.
The water opens and the ships,
Shred the waves.
I want to fly and frolic in the deep blue.
I want to drink in its intoxicating breath.
I want to bask in its freedom;
In its glorious expanse.
I want to fade away, feather light.
Would that I could fly.
© – Anthony Leclair 2013. To contact Anthony, click here.
Artwork Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.