It’s Sunday morning on 112 Avenue
And we’re on our way to Church
We pass a teenage girl
Listening to her iPod and dancing in a bus shelter
It’s a silent pantomime of song, which only she hears
With her eyes closed and hands moving
I watch and inhale the beat.
God is looking on
Me, in my starched collar
She, in her mini skirt, dancing
My Sunday morning singer
Last Tuesday, I attended the Annual Alberta Avenue Community League meeting and met some new people. One was involved with Arts on the Ave ( I was invited to their next meeting); the other two were a young couple, who had just moved into the Alberta Avenue area. It was so good meeting them. On the way home, I was thinking about the concept of new friends and came up with this poem.
This is a red-letter day for me
I speak of friends in melody
This chorus of impunity, now sung amid community.
The robins and I battle it out
” New friends !” within my heart I shout
” New friends” – the echo finds us out
As joy within a tear.