It was dusk
as I touched the ground in Saskatoon.
An unplanned visit made me realize that the world prides itself in furthering stereotypes.
This time I didn't pray for rain.
but I can now smell it in the pavement.
I must be home.
a bookshelf full of my own possessions.
drawers full of old clothes.
sleeping off the ground.
feet hitting carpet as I wake.
the green walls.
a room with a known past.
and the telephone ringing.
I can remember a slight touch of the back.
and lights in the distance.
The same song now as then.