Where Are You Now

In memory of Norma West Linder

I have photos of us
standing by painted moose in Toronto,
standing next to Pierre Burton,
beside other poets, in taverns and living rooms.

I wonder where you are now, Spirit Island girl.
Arranging letters in some heavenly Scrabble game?

Sitting on a park bench under lemon trees
humming ghost notes alongside
John Henry’s jazz grooves?

Watching a cloud of trilliums float by
in a new green and white world?

Can you be seen within the center of storms,
delighted with the fury and flash?
Do you bide your time
between beach and nature trails?

Perhaps, when you left this world,
the spirits of the ‘Sarnia group’ gathered ‘round—
welcomed you home.

Saved you a seat at their star-lit table.
“Norma, we’ve been waiting.
Come sit, lets write awhile.”