hmmmm....
October 9, 2007
I t’s all over now. The Oilers lost their first game of the season last night! The panic is on full. Ha! They’re going to lose games. And this one, despite looking like they were afraid, or in awe of the Red Wings, could have gone either way. The momentum shifted heavily in favour of the Oil as the game went on. Oh, enough about hockey…I don’t know anything about hockey.
In the next few weeks, I’ll be revamping the content on the site…new poems, new stories…in the meantime….
(iii)
She’s running towards the picture-taker. This girl, who is four-years-old, but looks to be six. How he knows this small detail is a mystery to him, but he does know it. He also knows this early burst of height is something she gets from her mother. People are always mistaking her for a six year old. He thinks about his own vital statistics. He’s not short but neither is he considered tall. His height is 185 centimetres. He weighs 82 kilograms. He thinks in metric, he realizes. Did he take these pictures? Do these pictures exist in some photo album, or are they merely frozen memories? Maybe he really is insane.
This tall, four-year-old girl is running toward the picture taker. One foot off the ground – in mid-stride. There is glee in her smile and in her eyes. She is loved. She knows she is loved. Her arms are outstretched – she is undoubtedly coming for a hug. He searches his memory. Columbus has sons, not daughters. This little girl does not register as a part of his life. She has no name. There is no relationship. This picture is within mountains. There are mountains heaved up and grey in the background. Mountains tall enough to have snow in the upper reaches. Down in the valley, where this girl is running, there are flowers on the ground, and deciduous trees and shrubs. She has sun-bleached blond hair that hangs to her shoulders. In his picture her hair is flying behind and to the left. Her face is focused, eyes straight at the photographer, and she is happy. He can see this girl is happy. Perhaps she likes the colour pink. Her shirt is pink and she is wearing pink leggings. A jean skirt with beads around the waist. Her boots are utilitarian, useful, brown leather. A yellow teddy-bear is just visible in the tall grass behind her. He imagines he can hear the sound of a train – the low groan and the whistle in the distance.