Under Gord's Moon
when the rain comes down
when with a little courage
and determination
maybe some grace, too
you could swim in a parking lot
pothole oceans
cracked pavement streams
through the mist and the drizzle
melancholy tosses an unseen tsunami
when the clouds deluge the land
when foundations turn to muck
liquefy and join the flow
nothing like being at one with the crowd
my thoughts are flooded
my landed reality doused
have I a right to this abyss
I didn’t really know you
but somehow you knew me
COME BACK … please
...
rain storm to a nautical disaster
each drop a monsoon
throwing crested rapiers
with devil may care
cutting, seeping through
sinking my defences
dissolving my paper bag hull
washing away sanity
within the surge
then your finger starts to wiggle
and landscapes emerge
a bittersweet vista, for sure
but come now, all you bunch of dancers
you ship-wrecked Canadian surfers
only when you let the clouds clear
and the sun come out again
can you also have a morning moon
look up; now you’re under Gord’s Moon
- words in italics indicate the words of Gordon Downie. (1964-2017)
...
The Digital art is courtesy of the creative commons and public domain. The images have been edited.
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Gord_Downie_2001_
By Ryan Merkley (Gord Downie Hillside 2001 by Ryan Merkley CC BY) [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
https://pxhere.com/en/photo/487506
Under Gord's Moon is copyright Pryde Foltz
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