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I wrote this short poem after a somewhat surreal day in Halifax, Nova Scotia. It was raining and looked like a mundane winter's day, but it proved otherwise.

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this was the day for silhouette cyclists

and resignation shaped shoppers in rain

this was the day for lazily gazing

through a café window pane

where blurred young things still shone

but when a raindrop fell down my cheek

it felt like a teardrop for the weak

this was the day for conversations with

a north end preacher and a piano teacher

this was the day for returning home to a happy soul

and a single white flower lying by the front door

this was the day I needed to know more