images from a toronto summer in the 1960s

today in Toronto it is cold, dark and windy, but luckily I found in the pages of  Raymond Souster’s poetry a sun-dappled glimpse from a summer four decades old…

there it lay on the page, just waiting to be read, to be seen and felt…


Who says
nothing beautiful ever happens
in Toronto?

Just think of this —

Bobby Hackett coming suddenly
out of Whaley, Royce on Yonge Street,
holding in his hand a gleaming trumpet
which catching the late rays
of the afternoon sun makes jewels,
crown jewels flashing in my mind long after
he’s waved for a taxi, driven south
into the soft auto haze….

— Raymond Souster, The Years, 1971


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