Dulled by the trolley’s rhythm,
I drift through fragmented memories
of past summers in Canada.
Lazy days spent at the lake.
Endless trees, evergreen garlands,
strung between water and blue clear skies.
Sunday snoozing in the back pew.
Choir hymns rippling through
waves of vanilla scented candles.
Those who have flocked here,
Explorers, seeking truths
for which there are no answers.
If ever there was a place to believe!
Even for the briefest of moments
before the colours turn.
Fading through the back window…
Leaving only our ghosts to greet
the chalk white snows of winter.
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