Poem: Beginnings

"I was writing a poem
when I saw you...
by the Inuit stone figure
on the banks of English Bay...
I had gotten this far:
Into the cool waves...
the colour of brandy...
the black duck dives...
by the red buouy...
the powder blue boat
forsakes the wind...
shucks its limp white sail...
and chugs towards...
the cluttered shore...
Rain clouds swell
over the dark mountain...
as the pretty woman
on the bare bench...
pauses...with her post cards...
and puts on
her canary yellow jacket...
I was writing a poem...
when I met you..."
...............Quester.