Rush Hour at Dalhousie

Today morning, in the midst of browsing through random poetry sites, I came across this beautiful poem titled ‘Rush Hour at Dalhousie’ penned by Alexander Bodor. Alexander lives in Calgary, Canada, and in the last couple of years his work has been a part of quite a few interesting anthologies. When I contacted him through a poetry forum, he was gracious enough to allow me to share his work on my blog.

As the title suggests ‘Rush Hour at Dalhousie’ paints the picture of a busy weekday hour in Dalhousie (Calgary, Canada). What I found captivating about the poem was the subtle and measured use of words in depicting the chaos. There are no high flying words or forced imagery. The effect is so serene and soothing; it’s as if you are witnessing the street madness through a filter.

Here’s the poem, hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. Besides the poem, there's also a note messaged by the poet, enlightening about how this beautiful piece came together. Do share your thoughts on this.

Rush Hour at Dalhousie

Weekday rush,                                                                                          

Poem features in the anthology - Best Poets and Poems of 2012 by World Poetry Movement

an afternoon hour.
People’s traffic
A human crush.
East and West,
North and South.
Heading home,
heading out.
City in transit,
Bus or train.
In the making,
a human chain.
One train comes
another train goes.
Chain of people,
constantly in-tow.
Men and women,
Girls and boys.
Cramming in,
bunching out.
One by one,
Two by twos.
Exit and entrances,
filled with shoes.
Work or school,
young and old.
Destinations
yet to unfold.

Words from the Poet, Alexander Bodor: 

There is a c-train station 10 minutes from home that so happens to be named Dalhousie Station, as I live in the community of Dalhousie here in the north west quadrant of my city.

One afternoon I was inspired to write about the hustle and bustle that takes place every morning and afternoon at the train station precisely the same time each day of the week. I walked down to the platform, found myself a seat and took notes of what I saw and heard for the next hour or so. My mind was already working out lines and verses before leaving for home. By the time I arrived home, the first verse (four lines) was already created.

You see, when they printed the poem all the lines were combined instead of having the seven separate verses in original form. I was a little disappointed about it was printed, but I was more than excited to see my work in print.