Might She Answer

I wave at her inside And she wipes the sleep from her eyes She is wide-eyed and bright And her giggles are like bubbles breaking against the sunlight She is a tiny tapestry of a life meticulously tended and idealized Rooted in boundless pride And open to the blossoming of infinite petals She is the pink sky that occupies a vital section of my mind She is my protector She is resilient She is light on her feet and cautious and cunning and malleable I wave at her inside And when she cries she cries a swirling flood And she is breathless And her teardrops a hurricane a tsunami I wave at her inside And she is sleeping Only coming awake to a crackling wintery sunlight or the blanketing of a rainy day Embracing the cozy existence she has earned She is endless autumn The balance of death and the chance for a new beginning I wave at her I wave at her I wave at her I wave I wave I wait for her


Poet's bio: Vanya Garraway is a first generation Caribbean Canadian, with a mother who fell in love with Gretzky the moment the family could afford a TV. Vanya grew up in a Scarborough neighbourhood that was partially developed on what used to be farmland which then had houses eclectically added over the years like books to a shelf, all from different times and from different genres, the shapes and colours being of every kind, just like the people in them. She was the girl next door to the paper boy next door, on the other side of the train tracks. She is a reading, writing and pop culture pundit with a healthy grip on on nostalgia. She lives her life in downtown Toronto.

Recent Posts

See All