The Ghosts of Jay MillAr Read Online Free Page B

Ontario, at the cottage watching the lake just
sitting there, shining in the forever setting summer sun and angling the air,
we were all looking down the road, it seems, all the time,
squinting to see ahead, as far as we could see. i would find myself
years later down that road in a room with Hazel, Stefan, Rob,
Joe, and Sue, all of us on mushrooms, even now, looking down these roads
there is nothing there…     nothing…     looking at myself
now from the doorway in the sun. it all becomes comforting.
it all becomes the same thing while i am busy waiting out the while of each moment.
what happens but what has happened? which branch should we sit on, looking
at how far it recedes into the future? we were amazed
    at how far we had come, at how we had arrived, and still are. amazed,
looking at the sun, or at the leaves falling peacefully in front of the Runnymede
United Church, November 12,1996,11:42 pm or at the lawn in front of our house
and the huge white mushrooms that have grown there all summer, this morning
nothing but dull frozen lumps on the frozen ground, among the frozen dying leaves,
when you look at the angles of fieldrows driving the highways of
South Western Ontario, there is always that quick glimpse of a straight
empty row of dirt that reaches into the distance as it is replaced by another
    at the exact moment you saw it.
    all the adventures we had had along the way, and as such they would be
replaced by dreams, dreams and the occasional moment of speech.
the cornstalks we walked through to find the lights of fire trucks, all of us standing are
the fire, looking up we could not see the stars, although later
we could realize we were not really seeing, weird wonderful waking dreams
in which those rooms would actually fold up with us in them.
    we were standing… somewhere…          pure magic
on fire with being, the Sunday afternoons of our lives, the trees,
their branches and their leaves, together they are the energy
of the world, waiting to be touched and then to fall away, the time
travel and such incarnations, it all becomes the earth waiting to catch us
    and hold us tenderly,
    where memory becomes a solid of eternity. 21 for we were walking
    along the side of the road when suddenly it struck us that we were
    walking along the side of the road and it stopped us
    right in our tracks, stopped us all where we were…
    Coda:
    wide open.                   we are ready to embark into
    imagine…                   its is so nice to look there
    (Our minds glass eyes and mist, youthful, on fire with being…)
    boring the reader to death it was our duty
    to watch the windows do whatever.               in the afternoon
    there were many beautiful photo opportunities
    between places and the sound                        so still, what creates
    a pattern in the human mind                and where am i?
    at the exact moment you saw it                      and hold us tenderly
    right in our tracks, stopped us all where we were…
Endnotes
    1 After some study, we decided that these trees were actually more highly developed forms of the local fungus, since they sprouted from the same rich soil that supported all the vegetation of that area. Earlier, we had discovered some particular soil that appeared to be composed of small mushrooms that clung to each other as they struggled to grow out of smaller fungi as they decomposed. The ecosystem was obviously growing and decomposing at the same time in these intricate layers of subtle colours we could not describe. Sometimes we counted as many as seventy-two