Bird’s Eye View

A pulsing blue dot on Google Maps
pins me to my house
with reassuring certitude.

Below, my neighbours’ rooftops
appear to stand at equal height,
though I notice some have
secret swimming pools
that glitter turquoise in their back yards.
Who knew?

Like a flying witch rebellious
I glide my finger across the screen
and float east on Kingsdale Avenue.
My broomstick swings north
and I sail towards the downtown core
Looking for landmarks in the leveled land.
Round green dots are tops
of trees that hide their growth.
They cluster in uneven clumps
in city parks
and line the edges of right-angled streets.

In seconds,
I fly to the heart of the downtown core
and my giant ego floats above the emptiness.

***

Wearied by my sovereignty,
I lay my phone
face down beside my bed –
plugged to power.
Flashes behind my eyelids fade and
layers of soft sounds
embody me in stillness:
the quiet snoring beside me;
the muffled thud of our dog
as she shifts her body on the carpet;
the rustle of leaves in the trees
outside the open window;
and the whoosh
of late-night cars
on wet streets.

I try to listen lower,
for deeper voices in the earth below.
Messages whispered through fungal networks
that link the lonely hawthorn tree
we planted on our front lawn
to the wild forest growing
just south of us
on the edge of suburbia.