The lovesong of a reunion coming

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a brother energized by all re-unions;
Let us go, through Harbour Front and Ontario Place,
The muttering retreats
Of scenic nights of smoke-free dining
And golf courses green with manicure bent:
Streets that follow like our continuing argument
Of fraternal intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question
Oh, do not ask, What is it?
Let us just go and make our visit.

In the room Upsilonians come and go
Talking of Otso-Otso sa Toronto.

There is no yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes
There is no yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Or licked its tongue into the corners of the Torontonian sight,
Lingered upon the Skydome or the CN Tower that stand in glow,
Let fall upon your back the soothe of massage that falls from tender hands,
Slipped by the Royal Museum terrace, made a sudden leap!
And it will be a soft August night,
When the waters of Niagara curled once about the rocks,
And fall asleep because of the mist.

There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to banter and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred decisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of toast and tea.

In the room Upsilonians come and go
Talking of Otso-otso sa Toronto.

(with apologies to t.s. eliot)

Alfie 67

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