ONE RECENT ORDINARY DAY
No one here but us at Mud Bay today.
scavenging birds leave opened shells
to dry under cloudless sky with snow tipped peaks
in the distance, a train’s approach and ducks lift silently
and turn away.
From White Rock comes the Amtrak,
horn echoing in the hills through Crescent Beach,
across the bridge, around the bay, passengers’ faces
savouring delights of sparkling waters and sun bleached logs.
We sit as butterflies flit to find
flowers, blossoms, anything sweet.
Printed pages blur as sleep takes over
and no one cares. No clock to punch,
no projects to complete.
I’m done, retired six years ago,
free as these birds and bees.
Next time I’ll come with paints and take home
plein air treasures, perhaps to sell or give to friends.