Love Poem: Letter To Cornwall
Elizabeth Shannon Avatar
Written by: Elizabeth Shannon

Letter To Cornwall

do you remember this place by the ocean?
these coastal mornings with their Arena air
the wind from the crab dock almost strong enough 
to be swept away,
running from growling raccoons
randomly reading names on boats-

The way I remember The day you said the word traded, 
how it changed us, to me, 
you brought me here in your little red car
I knew it wasn’t romantic
Dave passed out in the back seat
You chugging back a litre of water
Like you had spent the night in the Saharan 
Even the car smelled hungover

Over there by those big rocks where couples watch the sun rise
Just a few feet from where I am now
You calmly wrapped your arms around me 
The way waves cradle the sand
 Then  said “it was no big deal,”
And my sun set, turning me dark 
The way you rationally explained it was “part of the game” 
told me you had done this before. 

Stood on a late spring morning with your arms around a girl
 and told her that you were going home for the summer
 like you always do and regrettably wouldn’t return with the fall.
Then left maybe on a greyhound or maybe In your little red sunfire.

 I think about that girl left back in one of those little Saskatchewan towns
 and wonder if she’s writing you this morning too,
I know about her because you came to British Columbia on a trade 
and now I wonder if there is letter on its way 
from the town in Alberta that sent you to Saskatchewan.

It’s kind of comforting to know that I’m not alone
To imagine all the girls left in limbo 
Writing letters curled up by fire places, from small town diners,
Empty arena seats, front porch swings and, beaches
 
I’m watching the boats now. 
Ships come in and make the harbor beautiful for a moment 
and then sail away.

The team still skates everyday at five
I picked Dave up from practice
We had a mountain burger
And a couple of black Russians
I should tell you it ended there
But we came down here 
And skipped rocks into the ocean
Laughing about old times
When he was the third wheel
And when he took my hand
I let him; it felt right at the time 
So I’m not alone, but lonely

Is there a girl in Ontario who has already fallen?