GRASSLANDS COMMUNITY TRAILS

O KANAGAN (a lament)

I remember those summer days

simmering heat and coppery haze

Searching desperately in myriad bays

Remembering those languid, poignant memories...


Grandad whittling on the beach

Tongue protruding as he formed a knot

Into an eye, a nose, a wrinkle or a blot

On the landscape of a journey marred by pain and suffering

Everything slightly out of his grasp

Intensely concentrating while ignoring the noise

He listened and commented if he felt so moved

Words confirming a belief it was me he loved

Sun's rays warming the rocks

Our feet toughened to the pain and the clear cold

Crouched, looking searching

Pants rolled up to the knees

Rubbing the rocks between thumb and forefinger

Holding them up, the world reflected in its misty swirls

His brow wrinkled, expecting to see God's eye staring back.


Poet: Mike Weddell |...........................| Photographer: Jack Van der Star


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