We walked,
almost hand in hand -
You were not racing ahead of me.
I stopped to take a thousand pictures.

Last summer,
we strolled in the
Plateau Mount Royal -
still the cool place to live,
to do the tourist thing,
to be, to wander around in ,
to busk in, to beg in.

We settled in St.Louis Square -
long afternoon shadows
making the whole scene prettier -
adding atmosphere.
A man playing a cello
under a shady tree -
the notes - deep - and melancholy -
added a bitter sweet joy.
People sitting by the fountain -
idyllic little scene.

Dusk approached slowly -
the light changed
into an almost eerie glow -
The old greystone houses
with winding staircases
and unique details
and open doors you want
to walk right through,
started to take on
that twilight glow.

A foreboding of some
kind of doom set inside of me -
to do with us ?
perhaps -
such an uncanny disturbing feeling -
Yet the lovely light
and beautiful old architecture
sent me into diverse feelings and thoughts -
opposites - balances -
a seasaw of emotions and circumstances
that could tip
at any time.

This is what I felt -
and indeed this
is what transpired.
I have the photographs.
They speak many thousands of words.
I don't have your company anymore -
Just the memory of
the shades of dusk of late last summer
in the little park.

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Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

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