For some reason this morning I started to think about the four years we lived in Montréal, riding the subway, visiting the Old Port, the street musicians. Here are a few memories…

Old Port buskers
captivating Andes flutes
drummer a beat behind

stilt man
steps up his McGill tuition
future architect

subway guitar player
revs up as we pass
notes in his case

“just a dollar madam
milk for my little girl”
here’s hoping

dusty old derelict
his haunting “Oh Danny Boy”
pulls out tears and toonies

shivering beggar
on a downtown street
I donate my lunch

Latino singer
my silly feet start dancing
“ba ba bamba”