AN OLD NOTION

by on July 25, 2019 :: 0 comments

our exhaustion trapped
within us
like holding the weight of lead
in a closed hand
in the dark mist a train echoes
like the windblown rain
it moves in hums mixed
with hushes
its horn is sudden
like the voice of a giant
sounding over the top
of our heads
cracking in thunder to break our mirrors
it is the distance seeded in our eyes
staring out to the length of this bridge
that spans across to another country we
seldom think to visit.

editors note:

Trainspotting to transporting; a rare visitation from the blast of a horn. – mh clay

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