Waiting for the Woodpeckers

I was sitting on your doorstep
trying to think
in an Canadian way,
while waiting
for the woodpeckers to come,

I imagined taking a walk
with you, or waiting to meet
your parents, using my best French,
which I don’t speak
by the way,

Imagination takes me
far away, and closer to you
but I do miss seeing
your eyes light up
when the Danish Sun
goes down,

If you are in Copenhagen
and I, in Aalborg
then the time zone we share
would make it seem
as if you were a bit closer
to me,

Just without
the Woodpeckers of Montréal

Copenhagen Lost

I was there, almost
close by, but only just

I felt its presence
the traffic moving in that direction
the pulse of the City
just not pumping so much
in its extremities

Goodbye Copenhagen
wherever you were
I went my way, in the opposite
direction, never seeing you
close-up,

Your towers and Mermaids
and this castle and that attraction,
and the Queen too,
failed to see my face

in the Copenhagen Sun…

Sushi, Thai, Punjabi

What this City offers
aromas, bitter looks
foreign tastes

I don’t feel as if
I have sampled enough
during my stay
while I swam about
in this concrete pool
of humanity

My senses
honed and sharp
for the hunt, the chase
the capture of what to sustain
myself,

The deed done
The unknown being conquered
Having fallen prey to,

Pastrami Pizza
in the wilds of Copenhagen….

The Flow

The flow of the City
took me along
though I tried to fight the current
all the same,

The traffic
an endless stream of lights

Dragging the bottom
for lost motorists, having given
up all hope
of arriving home on time

I wanted
to be one of the few
who traveled the other way
with those of equal thoughts
and intentions, but alas

My course
not being of my own choosing
wrapped up in my destiny
chosen long before I walked
the highways and byways
of this life,

My dreams of being
a random passenger
or, wayward hitchhiker
even, a chance companion on the road
were swept away with increasing speeds
and disregard for others

The flow of the City
took me along…..

The Floor Creaked

The floor creaked
my muscles ached
my eyes adjusted
to the morning fog

Just around the corner
the City of Copenhagen
lurked

I craned my neck,
and tried to see
the castles and towers,
-the City asleep,

The floor still creaked
and my eyes ached
and the fog still shrouded
my warmer intentions

Just around the corner
out of my sight,
the City went about its business
-while I went about mine

Copenhagen
a word, an entity
encasing its story, its people
while I lurked
around the corner
out of sight

In my own corner
of a City called
Copenhagen…