Juvenilia ✔/ a Nonfiction Undergraduate University Collection

at the riverside

Bees buzzing by golden trees, her foot

bobs to the hum of music emerging from her soul.

With the intention of immortalizing the moment,

her pen writes thus:

The sesquipedalian writer in me

wants to let loose,

so gather your dictionary, dear friends, and animate the scene

I describe; a little after five, I sit on rocks by the river;

it's a tad too warm to be considered balmy, everything

is slightly sticky making the breeze a welcome companion.

Gulls line the broken bridge supports across

the St. john river, a rippling mirage to the

left. To the right, a cute couple laying in a field.

Behind, the screeching laughter of kids playing

intermittently breaking lines of classical music phrasing,

bringing life to the picturesque greenery sprawled as far

as the eye can see. In front, a monument to the HMCS Fredericton,

an anchor that symbolizes her heart's yearning for anchorage

– not the place, but the state of being – a place for her to

settle roots with someone whose ocean runs as deep as hers.

The intoxicating floral aroma of riverside bloomery, heavy

in the dense summer air clinging to everything it encounters, though

the fragrance is delicate enough innately that it does

not venture into the territory of sickly. The

colours are bright like how the world looked in childhood, as

though a saturated picture but it's not; more

accurately it is the state of being

in love with life – making the choice to see the world in

color, to feel so much love for the world that you smile

at every stranger and make small talk with ants, who

think your lap is the place to be; it

is having a sandwich under a blossom tree.

She walked to the riverfront, and she sought

out an oak, and to her it spoke,

"Your aura is beautiful; silver and blue."

and she had never blushed so hard in her life,

never been able to really take a complement,

but with grace and a smile, said, 'Thank you,'

feeling herself humming in happiness with

a pep in her step. It's now after seven, and

she's missed the bus, but it's no matter for

she's where she wants to be.