The circus was distracting;
the old man loved it. Eyes wide
like a boy’s. A boy
he'd never been.
On the way back, they drove
toward sunset. His wife’s
arm wrapped around him,
the Tuk-tuk bumping along the Reap
road. He’d stiffened when the Canadian
asked at dinner, where his wife was from.
A breeze rushed through them,
the future catching the past.
But, the French couple
at dinner? It was as if he'd known them.
Which was impossible.
They were far too young.
He’d been a child himself, then. The Tuk-tuk
drove on into shadow.
Keith’s poetry can be found in Canada, the US, Cuba and Ireland. He has earned multiple grants, helps run The Banister Anthology and adjudicates a contest for teens through the Public Library System. His book, The War Poems: Screaming at Heaven from Black Moss Press, received excellent reviews, including Canlit #223. His new book, SEAsia, is scheduled for 2017, also through BMP. Keith lives in Thorold, Ontario. A former tradesman, he has no formal training in writing.
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