I met a man

A story of Multiculturalism, Immigration and Canadian stereotype.

Danny M.

With no true understanding of the man I am to meet,
I see a snowy figure crawling out of an igloo
Guarded by a polar bear, seal and narwhale fleet
Buried in a parka, spelling color with a U

In the roaring blizzard, freezing rain and violent storm
The arm stretched out before me is a ice-induced mirage
But when I stretch to grasp the palm the breeze I feel is warm
And holding hands he paints the snow a colorful collage

Shades I had forgotten stain the deadly sleet with life
Bursting bulbs of green and red spray hues of every kind,
From the sky blue páint rains like blood dripping from a knife
But still his porcelain Venetian mask is undefined

At times it’s black or yellow- and at others it is brown
His left eye is a Gulabjam, his right a Chinese lantern
Throughout his varying colors his lips never smile nor frown
His glove blends with my skin as I in him myself intern