Love Letter to Halifax

By Christen Jo Blackman

Nova Scotia you took a hold of me when I least expected it.

When it rains the salt water curls my hair.

I feel like I must have been here in a past life-

Or is that now?

I can’t tell the difference.

How can they be my friends if I don’t know them?

Is that what happiness is?

When the tide turns and I’m sunburnt and cold again-

I’ll remember the Atlantic blue in her eyes and the grey grit under my feet.

Putting one foot in front of the other-

For no reason other than espressos on deck.

If it weren’t for all of these colors that turn like windmills in my mind-

Hope high enough to fly a kite!

I wonder if I just might-

Learn to be free like no other-

The kind George Washington admittedly could not fuck with!

Still outside early in the mornin,

Do I puff on mine.

Do I imagine ghosts on Windsor?

Or those that move swiftly today?

There’s something about a port city and the call of the wildest unknown-

Her paradise-

Her love-

That is the greatest love of all-

To give fully of itself and to live happily enough to enjoy the day.

Please keep me humble-

Humble like soft grey Is it white, silver, blue, pure???

If I put my eye on it I’d never know the truth...

Keep me grateful-

Get by on less-

This can all be bliss.

You see the sun-

Put your sunglasses on.