By Carter Vance
If there is some grander notion,
to these ether trailings
of sunlight across splendor brick
clicking of chatter heels against
stone, then it is unrevealed
against the washing of winter
coat flows, as much so as
under the watchful burning
space of warmer times.
There may yet be some clockwork
design to the patching of curtain
draws on days too blank to
pass inside, yet still too knife-showing
to venture out.
Then go to some places, scrubbed
down and seeing to welcome,
but filed down from all threat,
tensed of all teeth-baring exercise,
in the contemplation of old air
where you could belong.
Not even there, though, was
a planning pen found amid
rubbish bins, hesitant tea cups,
broken spindle casing,
there being no sketchbook
tracing of myself in famed
rooms.
Carter Vance is a student and aspiring poet originally from Cobourg, Ontario, currently studying at Carleton University in Ottawa. His work has appeared in The Vehicle (parenthetical) and F(r)iction, amongst other journals. He received an Honorable Mention from Contemporary Verse 2’s Young Buck Poetry Awards in 2015.
