I think of that day every time I ride the LRT and remember those conversations when I walk through a station. I notice what would probably be only a blur if we hadn’t taken that time to be curious, if each piece was not now invested with the memory of the voices of friends.
This somewhat ekphrastic poem emerged after looking at a photograph of an art installation of work by Nathan E. Carson at The Power Plant art gallery in Toronto.
Art can be so powerful, especially if you give it time. This prose poem captures the way my experience of a street mural changed over the course of about 10 minutes.
Progressive Tense 