We walked through the dark , cold streets of Toronto

past the skaters at the square

Past the tall glittering grey buildings

past Yong st. past the pawnshops

through the park as the snow fell on our faces

That winter was endless

I tried to make my peace with the bare branches

the monochromatic vistas of grey and brown

except for the inky richness of the night sky

Slowly Spring came

flower shops sprouted on corners

The ontario vineyards turned pink and white

Fluffy clouds floated in the baby blue skies

sunlight filled our windows

Pigeons fluttered and cooed

Seagulls soared and dipped

Sun flashed off the glass buildings

we slept with all the windows open and the air was soft

All night the sirens sreamed and twelve floors below us

the homeless cursed and laughed

People began to fill the streets that had been

swept clean by the raw knife of winter wind

Indian Women wore bright saris

their hair glossy black and thick

Muslim women floated by swathed in black wool with dark quiet eyes

Fat squirrels with  bushy tails scampered up trees 

Ravens crouched on fences and posts

Rain came washing away the city's smog and the trees

grew heavy hanging over the sidewalks

African men gathered in the park, smoking and talking

and everywhere was a wild celebration of flowers

filling the spaces between the

Victorian houses on hundred year old streets

still filled with the ghosts of former lives

Always the subliminal noise of traffice

and the great city humming