Night Journey with a Voice

Crisp air
on Lansdowne at Seaforth
And headed down
To Queen and
A wall of 3 story storefronts;
Left on Jameson

To apartment house row,
Where the souls mostly pay rent
All in vertical tow
Past king St and right
On to Lakeshore
Steady as we go.
The night sweet,
Heart’s content,
Life is a singular
feast when you’re
Present,
not hell bent.
The black lake,
This time
Is streamed full of light;
The message is sent;
And there’s a slight
Mist on the riot of
streetlights
tall along the
Parallel expressway night.
And to rush the moment
Now
would be an anathema,
Even with the evening
water sewage plant
smell In the air.

My guide
is a woman’s voice
telling me effortlessly
Where to go,
And I give her rest,
Ease,
and peace
at the driveway
Of journey’s end.