The Lakes of Alberta, Pt. I

You called me, and I didn't think.

You dyed your hair red in the sink

while I did the dishes in the bathtub,

and then you stood up and locked the door and spread yourself out on the floor.

And twelve or thirteen minutes later,

you said "I've always wanted to go to Lake Louise

in the winter when its frozen" and I said, "it doesn't freeze". You made up names and wrote them down

in the guestbook at somebody's wedding who we didn't even know.

I always loved to watch you read in the bed amidst the cushions,

with the book propped up against your knees.

And I wanted to take you to Lake Louise.

You'd leave your husband and we'd drive across the country...