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Searching For Questions And Scents And Fruit
15 July, 2000
Author: Pamela O'Brien

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peddling along at times sliding,
wrists tense and one thigh muscle pulling me
on solid ground as large blocks of greystone
on old buildings whiz by...as do
tulips and ambrosia pink petaled giant bonsai trees
baby blue sky fluffy clouds
and along i go on my sunday adventure
to seek a certain peace
to find the questions i have been looking for
to feel the rapture of just feeling good
and healthy and gee my rear end hurts
yet onward i peddle along sherbrooke st.
looking for that hot and sour soup that
intoxicated my taste buds,
last time i was in China town with you, my love,
the time we bought matching tiny beaded bracelets
and walked hand in hand along st.laurent,
watching people watching us,
my mane of hair, orange in the sun,wrapped around me as did you
and we sat in an open terrace eating thin crust pizza,
a pot pourri of people entertained us
and now
i feel the wind, hair braided
i feel like an oversized,older anne of green gables, pippi longstocking
and the wind and air make my upper lungs hurt...
short pit stop, and along the official path
winding and i breathe in a smile
feeling good....enough sun, solitary bikers
now
end of the road..highways,many overpasses,
uphill, pushing until i feel the smoothness once more...
enter a fruit store, the smell of curry overcomes the stalls,
bengali music, i think, the notes weave high and low
shrill chant,seductive, almost feel as if i am being watched...
a gum chewing man offers me his spot in line
i ask, are you sure ?
cool, and he says he is waiting for his mum.
now, i sit and type
and notice the dusk descending in these rooms with many views
it has been a good day so far...
of scents and wind and fruits and the fragrance of curry...
yes, it has been good day so far

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