Health knowledge made personal
 Tonight I call to my heart to return, to give flesh to the dry beanlike thing in its place. I dance looking out over the mountain at dusk, small lights bright on the hillside – a whole city turning dark – close my eyes and sing to it, feel a flutter of wing beats, like spring returning. One star sighted just above the horizon. Feet planted on wooden floor feel small yet part of sky stars mountain breathing rocking on soles of my feet. Outside the window, streetlamps line Park Avenue like pilgrims on their way to the cross, light. In Mount Royal park, an angel spreads her wings over the dark. Jennifer Boire |
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