[1] Exits

Exits curve away into a continent That seems to be without end From ground level. From here the eye Is led to the white verticals Of young birches, naked and tender, At the border of snow covered fields.

Isn't this the way how your hands
sway at my body's periphery?

[2] Mating Calls

The common golden eye male attracts
The female by showing its white breast
And emitting hoarse cries.
And in the evening, it signs its name
On the air with its whistling wings.
The red stag, likewise, roars loudly
And repeatedly to attract a mate.

I do nothing but read and write.

[3] Quaking Aspen

The shapes of trees against the winter snow
Are as if the yearning nerves have sent roots
Upwards into the air for songbirds of spring.

Till you arrive, love, I will stand with the quaking aspen.

[4] Echolocation

Walking into an glass tunnel laid through a bat cave, with the sound of hundred wings flapping, Parallels to my blind groping become evident. See I had to wait for your song to understand that one also finds

the way judging distances by the time it takes for echoes to travel back.

Note: Small trinkets written in, and on the way out of, Montreal - all as SMS/ text messages.