Sunday, September 8, 2019


First Street - CoOp on the right

RV’s are everywhere,
all summer,
lumbering  along our narrow streets
like huge carnivores,
in search of elusive parking spots
in which to graze.
At the two four corner stops
tourists cluster, indecisive,
trying to decide which corner to visit.
Drivers wait, some patiently, some not,
for them to choose.
Folks are everywhere in August.
CoOp cashiers are polite, efficient,
but their eyes are glazed.

Finally, September comes.
Smiling faces come up the hill 
to the CoOp,
gather on the corner 
by the Post Office,
catch up on the news; 
observe the weather,
the slight touch of coolness
as the season slowly turns.

“I’m so glad it’s fall,”
I say to the clerk as I buy my wine.
Oh, I KNOW!” she replies fervently,
and we share a smile.
We wait all summer for its end,
when the town returns to us
once more
and our local life
begins again.
The familiar buildings
invite us in.
We linger over produce,
make of our small purchases 
a social thing.

Our pace slows;
we can see each other now.
We smile as we pass.
“Beautiful day!”
“Oh, it is!”

Fourth Street dock

Down the hill on Fourth Street,
(we have four side streets 
and two main,
in our downtown core)
the water shines in late-summer sun.
Clouds wisp along Wah-nah-juss;
small aluminum boats putt-putt
across the harbour.

Totem carved by carver Joe David
and gifted to the town

The village is ours again;
we embrace the fog, 
the promise of coolness,
ready our rain gear,
anticipate the wildness 
of winter waves.

Tuff City basks and smiles
in the warmth of sweet September.
Its young people bicycle gayly
along the common path,
surfboards attached to the sides
of their bikes.
Seniors gather at
the Botanical Gardens for tea.
The shorebirds flock along the beach
on their way south.

And I am grateful
for it all:
each little thing.
Its beauty fills my heart;
it is the song I sing.

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