The Welland Canal
A final family day trip before our daughter starts school
we sit the four of us
on a bench in Port Colborne
facing the Welland Canal
eight feet off a four-legged bench
watching a ship come near
the bridge has already
lifted the road on its pulleys
a cyclist waits behind red and white
striped gates, his concrete path
well above his head now
the ship, a barge, looks miles away
a stalled moment of looking
reveals it moving closer, like clouds might
out of the haze
its colours brightening
its magnitude seizing
we recognize a Q
we place the ship in Québec
just passing through
on her way by the Welland Canal
a little man on deck
or a large man, for all we knew
wearing a yellow raincoat, finally sees us
waves merrily
then back to pulling ropes