Brakes hiss, trees slip, chain link ribbons
vacuumed up, sun flickering
bottle-brush pines, scrub oaks
sky-washing maples,
one white
birch,
backyards—
bicycles,
swing-sets,
decks,
inflatable
pools;
sky
painting
pond,
marsh-grass
belly-dancing,
tunnel
shock
darkness
out,
spewing
smoke-stack,
red lights,
crossing gates,
idling traffic,
feathered Sumacs
fence slowing,
couplings thump,
asphalt parked cars,
squinting mirror light,
brakes squealing, steaming,
gasping, shuddering,
exhaling, heaving, pausing—
still.
11 comments:
Reads like a Renoir painting—lovely and compelling.
I see that...
What a story. I was going to say my favorite image was "sky painting pond," but then I got to the end and saw that this was a story and the ending was fabulous.
Awesome!
just beautiful. glad i joined 40 +, otherwise, i would not have found your blog.
Nice poem! Really captures that feel of being on the train.
Thanks for following my blog!
Thank you for that lovely ride.
Lovely thoughts. Have a great week.
This has just that right train rhythm. A perfect ride.
Mmmm... lovely! It is great to see you posting poems. Very good :)
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