Midday By The Canal Poem by Rowena Velasco

The canal runs straight through the middle of things--
Not fast, not still.
The water is brown
reflecting the sun in broken pieces…

Red roofs line the canal,
warm from the sun.
The colour has faded unevenly,
not the same shade twice along the line.

Trees hang over the canal,
The leaves move slightly.
Shade falls across the water
and ends there.

Across the canal, houses stand,
Windows open,
They remain.

Nothing calls for attention.
No moment asks to be kept.

The day continues as it should
and I stand here long enough
until I feel it move on its own.