Last Holiday
Quebec December 1999
Travel asks about itself.
Directions take us
and we direct less than we know.
Snow drifting where
prescience
picked up mobility,
it seeds cold strategy
Passing over
too-fast Routes
anyone fits
this downdrift.
No temperature.
strolling, we touch little guides
ice-charmed handrails, calls from doubled entrances,
and replicas of the first
Indications
warm a returned wanderer.
the replicas are truly little -
removed from place
their Meaning transplanted, given to anyone.
we find the
Inukshuk,
last holiday
safe
so down a dune of snow
children, not hurling themselves,
just letting themselves,
Letting Movement
Ask them toward the river
a Saint, which is constantly breaking.
the ground slips us
over it.
the wind pins our faces taut.
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