The Lost Man

The features of this man's face
only partially hidden by the faux
fur of the hood surrounding it
identify him as Inuit. The hood, its
fur and the entire garment coloured
bright red, flaming against the
grey of his environment. He is
propped against a grey stone building
seated on a grey pavement, bits of
ice and snow lingering still, the
wind brisk and the air cold. All
elements familiar to him but not
perhaps the landscape. His forbears
lived in a sparkling, dramatic 
white arras where penetrating cold
and blustery winds described their
terrain. There ice huts sheltered
them from the elements and
hunting of the wild beasts that
shared the landscape sustained 
their existence; food derived from
Polar bears, seals and caribou
providing shelter and clothing as
well. Here, in the eastern Canadian
city where the man has migrated
the environment is hostile to his
existence, and he sits humbly 
within its sterility of opportunity
among hurrying crowds of city
dwellers, unnoticed and ignored
begging for change to feed a habit
lacking synchronicity with heritage.