Monday, April 16, 2012

Walking in a black-and-white somewhere

I think we were walking
in a black-and-white somewhere
that smelled of yellow-green
dandelions growing
in unseen graveyards
of trains, you said

you love the rust, abandoned
boxcars, empty
save the metal echoes

of the hobos, you admire
their fascination with handkerchiefs--
you can really do anything
with one of those-- my mind turned

to the bend
a ways away, I thought
I too love rust, but I love that bend
even more, because it bends
into the unknown, steady
geometry with a twist

your shadow rippled
lazily ahead of you down the tracks
as the sun hung heavy at your back
and I thought, this is why the world turns
for you, because you ripple
when the sun's almost gone, you look like heaven
I think, there's not enough rippling going on down here, god:
damn it all to hell, you don't say

you think how fitting it is
that railroad ties are called sleepers

because of the effects they have
on the senses,
silently entrusted

to connect parallels
to create space between

A poetry prompt from:
the imaginary garden with real toads


  1. And anything can happen in 'the spaces between'...especially those between words, between ideas, between people...

    1. Thank you for reading and commenting, Cad!

  2. I love your take on my photograph...because of the effects they have on the senses, silently entrusted to connect parallels
    to create space between...beautiful lines

    1. Thank you, Susie! Thank you for sharing your beautiful photography, and for stopping by to read and comment :)

  3. Amazing...what a great way to sum up that photograph and the feelings that the railroad and all of its nuances evoke. The bend....yeah the unknown, beckons to all of us that are in need of a little adventure...great write.

    1. Thank you so much, Herotomost! I really appreciate you coming by to read, and your thoughtful comments.