Thirst Quencher

Poetry is a thirst-quencher I look forward to my daily cup It rehydrates my parched spirit Attenuates the bitter taste of life Every sip, I savour As I see poetry everywhere In everything In Toronto's tall buildings, In its small cafés In its multitudes In the blue eyes, green, And brown eyes In the smiling faces And the mirthless ones In doors opening like gaping mouths Ejecting hapless Torontians In the big blue lake In the multiple languages commingling with English In the churches, mosques and temples Side by side In the aroma of ethnic cooking In the wide highways Offering endless possibilities In the ever so brief but warm summers In the hope written on immigrant's faces I see poetry In the priest's homily at Sunday mass In the voice of a young mother Scolding her child I hear poetry Poetry is a thirst-quencher Pour me a cup And I'll forever be your friend