Jim Harris: From Montreal to Vancouver

a white owl slipped past
in the silent summer night,
past my outstretched thumb,
the air between us writing
our lives with invisible currents.

there's no one running down
the trans canada at this hour.
we are both hunting
wing and claw
asphalt and headlight

hunting sunrise crawling
over the horizon
between sudbury
and saskatoon.

this year i saw the space station
slide across Massachusetts
eighteen times faster
than a .357, high and bright
with no lights.
hunting energy trails
left by jealous gods. hunting
potent dreams