Nothing Ever Happens in Pointe-Claire

John McAuley

Early this morning, I dreamt
of that red-haired girl
with the green eyes.

We had planned to buy a jeep
in 1965 & drive
to Central America.

(Some friends told me, recently
she married 3 years ago &
lives in Calgary.)

We kissed & said hello &
I stepped back &
saw that she was pregnant.

Old school clothes bursting
at the seams

& we talked.

She’s getting her PhD &
I said maybe, I’ll go
for my MA

                 & she smiled her thin

13th century smile,
“John, you’ve still got to finish
your undergraduate degree.
You were always such a dreamer,”
she said.

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