Sky Train (2004)
Dad, I fear that where you’re going there'll be no Sky Train and no Saturday afternoon to show you around New Westminster, from the cafeteria to my little office at Douglas College
and there will be no Charon and no quay
like the one we stopped at for dinner and drinks
before getting back on the Skytrain
before rolling over the switches
toward the purple dusk and hockey game
My fear is that where you’re going there'll be no hockey game
no baseball diamond in the sky
and I'll no longer be waiting at second base
for that unpredictable grounder
I write this in fear, not just for you, but for me too, and for all of us
for if there's no Skytrain and no hockey game
no ice and no diamond
neither will there be a café
on the corner of Broadway and Granville
no houses climbing the slopes to the peak of Grouse Mountain
There'll be no play
and no sky
once the revels are all ended
Is this what makes philosophy of so long life?
Is this the dearth of worlds only dreamed of
yet not to come
that lies at the heart of Hamlet’s unease?
Is this the fear that makes us yearn to see the spectre of our father on the palace walks?
Or is it some deeper hunch, about an invisible dimension, like ultraviolet waves to the human eye, invisible to see here in the tunnel where our receptors are too weak to pick up the signal?
But what does it matter anyway
if there is or isn’t a Heaven
if, to the end of our days, we ride the iron rails
that run parallel
like iron in our blood
pulsing from station to station
through the networks of our common DNA
into the chambers of our heart
and the corridors of our brain?
Next: Dying by the Law