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Georgian Bay waves, dishwater 

grey, white-frosted rise, 

throw cymbal and drum at my ears, 

crusts of brown foam ice my wheels, 

mud-rutted path 


Bicycle slow 

knuckles red-chapped, sandpapered by wind 

cheeks sleet-stung rain-teared, 

each pedal’s turn a hard push 


Take me home, 

take me to some place called 

safe from the storm 


Jessie sits 

on the sidewalk, blanket under her knees 

red cup beside her, Timmies gone cold 

she makes art, draws with pencils— 

a giraffe or a Jesus, blue jay, grey wolf, 

many horses, one sharp-eyed red fox 


I forget sometimes 



Where is she now?


Photo by: Susan Wismer

in The Goose, Fall 2023
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