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.