19 — 01
19 — 01

Hope in the evening sun


The April evening sun shines with promise

Shedding light over melting snow on farmer’s field,

Dusk dances gently on pavement covering highways.

In most years, as afternoon delicately folds itself into evening 

Thousands of kilometres of highway are pummelled by heavy, spinning disks of rubber.

The year’s fourth month: when the hopes, the dreams and the toughness of character

Are tested like none other.

Hockey playoffs begins its two-month grind.

Bus travel and junior hockey  simply, personify one another.

We are solemnly reminded of that this evening — two years to the day.

Just 29 more kilometres.

That’s all before a charter bus would

Stop, and hockey players enter an arena.

Twenty-nine kilometres south 16 young lives were lost.

The carnage and twisted iron

The smell of diesel fuel

The wreckage strewn west

Fails, mercifully, to of loss

Of life so being, triumphlant celebrated.

Now,  731 days later, arenas are quiet.

A global pandemic tightens its lethal clench,

Silencing activities — but not voices which,

Like the Humboldt Broncos bus crash,

Cry an innocent why.

We may never know why things crumble.

Yet, the late afternoon sun is

A comforting cursor for tomorrow:

A new day with new ways to walk, 

Not saunter,

Through incredible heartbreak and mystery.

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