Special place — the Hill

16 12 2010

One of the many assignments I had to do for my creative writing non-fiction class.  For this one, we had to write about a special place, and mine is based on a poem called “The Hill”, which is based on an actual hill.

Special place

There is a hill at the corner of Knight Street and 33rd Avenue.  On a clear night, you can see the lights from the North Shore mountains, shimmering teary eyes.  A Petro Canada’s red sign glares across the street, accompanying the low murmur of traffic.  Unpredictable grass – sometimes damp, sometimes dry – stretches out beyond a baseball field and a playground nearby.  Its expanse is more than enough for a quiet picnics or slow dancing to Chet Baker.  In the winter, you may be able to see children and couples on sleds, accelerating down the hill, their laughs only audible to those within the chain-linked fences at the bottom.  And at sunset, when the sky turns neon orange or blush pink, the hill is a theatre with firm earthy seats to those who have discovered it.





The Hill

3 02 2010

Jumping forward in time to the present, here’s something I wrote last month, also for my Creative Writing Poetry class.  We had to write a poem with exactly 25 words, no more, no less, if you’re wondering about why it’s uncharacteristically short. And yes, it’s a real place too.

The Hill

North Shore mountains’ lights shimmer
Like teary eyes against Petro Canada’s red glare
Soft hum of Knight Street traffic
Someday, He’ll fall for me here.