5pm – my home

It’s not the most beautiful of provinces,
No, that’s our neighbour to the west,
We are brown gray scrublands
And spiky yellow fields
Edged by trees with the plainest hues
As you drive across the land in the oft-droughtful summer.
But it has always been beautiful to me
– Lakes Louise and Morraine aside, even,
For anyone can see that they are beautiful just as plainly as I do,
Those glittering mountain lakes,
Icy toned against scorching day –
No, I am talking about the scrublands,
Whose plain hues blend together in mottled shades,
Each fading into the other
Perfectly.
I was born in the perfect place
– Someone knew how it should be! –
I was born with all I need to appreciate
Alberta’s subtle beauty.

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