46

When the voice came through the phone line

I felt lighter for the last time

In the bulk of all this personal mythology

As it worked to fill the gap formed in the north Atlantic map

With my speculations and reverse psychology

It was comfort in the same room where the frost around the window

Framed the warmest sunset I might ever see

In the vast array of violet, altostratus from the Highlands

Were an arrow pointed to the mouth of Fundy

And I doubt I've come to mind much since September