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vancouver, 5.29

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.