these diaphanous continents, cumulus humilis,
are precisely the colour of canada according
to a national geographic map i once owned:
luncheon meat, an anonymous pink
frayed red around the edges,
freezer-burnt.

from the back door of the lower deck
bluster a cover band's clumsy standards,
as sunburnt bystanders
sway canadian flags to the words
of sweet home alabama, hotel california,
clink bottles and thank
god the shadows are getting longer.

from the steps of the marriott
i watch the crowd accumulate:
bare shoulders wash past
like larval barnacles, attaching themselves
to banisters, lampposts, motorcycles, boats.
couples clamp hands; parents fasten
stroller seatbelts, folding chairs, four-year-olds;
tourists circle and reluctantly settle,
secreting calciferous shells
of shopping bags, t-shirts, saltwater taffy,
slippers and oven mitts
shaped like lobsters.

sails as sharp,
as cautious as scalpels
obliviously vivisect
the harbour sky, which coldly fades
into an amputated blue
reminiscent of veins and
underwater mountain ranges

in the weakening light, in a restaurant window
candles glow on all the tables. a single waiter
replaces a tablecloth, folding the old one
like a flag, while outside
a woman folds her sunglasses
and puts them in her purse, as her companion
presses a paper cup against his cheek,
smudging a maple leaf

brings back the memories doesn't it
says someone behind me as the band breaks into
sweet caroline and a camera
can't help but flash

there is a flare of colour over dartmouth, too far off
to be the fireworks we are waiting for, but enough
to cause boats to slow, suture themselves
to a dock or a particular patch of water,
switch off deck lights

and for the next ten minutes
an anticipation is tangible
in the tightening of grips
on cigarettes, cups, stroller-handles, cameras,
as the crowd stands tight-lipped

heightening with the first brief puff
like an intake of breath
of a cannon in dartmouth

expending expanding
dandelion galaxies
and daisy-chain vapours

and we cheer and stare,
entranced by the chance
to stand on guard for something
grander than ourselves,

we ogle and augur,
intend to remember.