Vancouver, you’re as gray as usual today,
but as my hometown – in a way – I never really mind.
my thoughts and worries are bouncing in my head,
but the rattles are drowned out by buzzing construction,
engines, a horn or two, someone shouting about God.
I find a strange comfort in the messy streets,
the busses that are too full at 5 pm,
we’re all hungry and a little bit tired
just slightly too intimate with each other.
The sun sets at 9 these nights,
and I like the cool summer air
the loneliness that perpetruates,
yet we’re still restlessly content anyways.
Vancouver, you are an old friend;
you watched me scale trees
and cry at beautiful things,
you watched my childish feet in the grass,
dangling from the swings,
you watched as I grew older,
but not necessarily wiser.
The skyline is always familiar,
the glowing lights of Grouse have never really changed.
sometimes I get as gray as you are,
right before you’re about to rain and rain,
but this is still home,
I can’t complain.
Vancouver, you have watched me grow up,
go away, return with many new weights
but some new wisdom too.
I don’t know what my future holds, don’t know how long it’ll be,
but I sit at the edge of Kits beach
hoping that we can grow old together too.