We live on the road that flows to the west —
The route to the place of happy hunting
Where the sun paints songs on the day’s–end clouds
Marking the edge of daytime with its blaze
And the tall, broad–leaved Yalappa bean–trees
Avenue our road in a green arcade
Now touched by winter’s fingers, passing frost
With yellow paintbrush poised, mars summer’s green
But our proud road leads through light and through dark
Across the city into Stanley Park —
That lovely civic lung that brings us peace
And freedom to walk in sea–salted air
My love and I, Patricia, we pair
Quite every day, throughout our whole life’s lease.

October 17 2002
Chez nous Nelson