This poem emerged during my poetry challenge (a poem a day through the month of September) which resulted in the creation of a poetry photobook which you can download here in pdf format.
I held your hand through New Liskeard
and kissed you in Kapuskasing.
In Hearst, where we stopped for gas
by the pulp mill, I kneaded your back
while you stretched your stiff legs.
By the shore of Klotz Lake, I kissed
you again because it was so good
the first time, and then in Nipigon
I nibbled a lobe, but you pushed
me away: it was dangerous, you said,
all those curves and a slick road.
Love seemed risky through the palisades—
Pijitawabik—piercing the sky.
Falling exhausted onto our bed
beside the sleeping giant, too tired
for more than a peck and a curt
goodnight, we rose early and I
captured you in Kakabeka Falls, an
indeterminate smile at the lens.
In Vermilion Bay, we hatched a plan
that required a bottle of Merlot
and a motel on the Pembina Parkway,
Vietnamese takeout and a corkscrew.
