Sailing on the Danforth

The west is an ember-billowed glow
Where silver towers dream their dreams
But here the mist is rolling in
And corsairs from the evening shores
Sail sky-blue boats by Greek cafes
While drowned men wait in alleyways.
And I’m full sail and gliding free
A sailor racing home from sea
Full sail and swaggering down the street
The raw salt breeze in my face. 

- Published in Queen’s Quarterly, Summer 1992