22nd STREET
H. W. Bryce
Waiting for the 22nd Street bus, I stood
standing at the clifflike hillside
on the escarpment one twilight eve,
purveying all down below:
City lights spread out below, shining bright,
Shimmering, twinkling, a reflection of the
Starry night. It’s a dream sight, and
You and I imagine loving life inside each
Shining star alight down there inside
The cityscape: loving mom, doting dad,
Two happy little children by the fireside,
Stretched out, boy with rover dog,
Daughter cuddling kitty cat…
Enduring peace, contentment.
Dreamlike…
Down the hill, into the city streets,
Lullabyed by screaming sirens,
Cop cars chasing a suspect criminal,
Ambulance attendees reviving an OD-er,
Homeless guys fighting over a sleeping bag,
A pair of shoes, one leaves shoeless, one shod…
Behind this window, a woman screams
As her man’s fist meets her face…
A child’s cry wails into the night…
Underneath a street light, a desp’rate man
Assaults a woman walking home from shift,
Tears at her clothes…takes off with her purse…
She lies in the spotlight of the street lamp,
Broken. The street light sputters…
Sirens, screams, cops and ambulances
Belie the peaceful vista down below,
Unheard up here on the hill,
Unheeded by the cozy ones whose
Lives are set…
The sounds of this “night sky”
Down below the starry night,
Down below, in the cityscape,
Starry lights in the music of the night,
Reflecting peace amongst the hidden frights.
Night Sky. City Lights.
22nd Street and city lights below,
All nestled midst the beauty of
Nature and the sea.
And the 22nd bus rumbled on,
With one wistful passenger also aboard.
A lifetime ago.
— —
—while watching a rerun of Vera, from 2011
—about the bus ride I took as darkness overcoated the city,
We drove along 22nd street, looking down,
City light atwinkling, apparently at peace.
I was a summer journalist at the Vancouver Sun.
Also, a lifetime later, my son rented a house in that area,
and I got to revisit that very vista.
Twinges. And still I could not write about it.
Finally, this.
