Occidental Sisters

There is a place
Familiar names attach themselves to unfamiliar streets
Cinnamon and north american traffic
Combine to fold away the years

The summer’s holding on to watch the maple turn
In long precise shadows
That creep along the sidewalk
Across tall buildings
To fall silently into evening

Ill winds that blow
Transatlantic and inconstant.
Down Bloor across Spadina
Have brought me here
And I am truly thankful

To dance along the limbs of family trees
Whose roots unbound by blood
Yet watered by our bitter tears
Stretch out along this city of parallels

When winter comes
And all the world’s gone mad
You’ll hold each other’s hands
And brush away the snow that stings your cheeks

For no unmeasured words
And hidden spite
From disappointed fearful men
Can dim your stars

You are the hope
The love
The future
My occidental sisters.