because while some truths lend themselves to equations, others are best described in verse

capture no.2

Don’t hide
behind the language,

hesays,
& means it:

sculpt your words
into the grumble

of trains
that rail in

sympathetic
overdrive

beside a silentrunning
river, gray

Decemberdepths
like black

ink
on a wet page

& verses punc-
tuated

with the mourning
warningwhistle

as she slows
on the outskirts

of where yesterday
meets tomorrow.

That crossroads
is all there is.

15 responses

  1. nice….let your words be the grumble of the train…the humble ripple of the river…the squeal of the breaks of the soft mew of the cat that sits on the porch noticing it all..smiles…sorry you inspired me a bit there…any way, let it be…cool piece…

    prob be back in richmond in january, this month is kicking my butt…smiles

    December 7, 2011 at 10:43 am

    • hey, how did you know there was a cat involved? πŸ˜‰ don’t ever say sorry for being inspired…

      will miss you this month, but that’s how december is, generally, kicking butts right & left…. will look for you in the new year, definitely. *smiles back*

      December 7, 2011 at 11:44 pm

  2. In all honesty, I don’t know what you wrote, but that is me, the unskilled. All i can say, is that I find myself reading it over and over, to find the mystery and wonder of why you made me feel.

    December 7, 2011 at 10:48 am

    • you don’t give yourself enough credit, i think. if it made you feel… anything, it has succeeded in its purpose as a poem. the “what” and the “how” are lesser details, subjective to each reader and not necessarily the truths of the poet.

      on a side note, i’m happy to see you writing again…

      December 7, 2011 at 11:55 pm

  3. of where yesterday meets tomorrow…isn’t it that they meet in the most unusual places and to the most unusual times…sculpting words
    into the grumble of trains…love it..

    December 7, 2011 at 11:56 am

    • <thanks, claudia! seems like we were both on train/travel wavelengths this week… a restlessness in the season, maybe…

      December 7, 2011 at 11:59 pm

  4. I think the sound of trains whether close or far in the distance stirs up something in all of us to varying degrees. It’s a form of music with its own romance. Maybe the wish to be somewhere else, to be on the move, and perhaps to make us contemplate where we’ve been and where we are going. Just like a train.

    December 7, 2011 at 12:35 pm

    • exactly right, i think, Carl. thanks for dropping by.

      December 8, 2011 at 12:00 am

  5. A nice feel in the poem, lovely write !

    December 8, 2011 at 8:20 am

  6. Yes, yes, and yes! Wonderful ride!

    December 9, 2011 at 12:54 am

    • thanks, thanks & thanks! πŸ™‚

      December 12, 2011 at 10:13 am

  7. This one made me stop, tilt my head to the right, cover my mouth with my hand, and read again. I felt something in my throat.

    smooches,
    Larie

    December 9, 2011 at 8:13 am

    • thanks, darlin! any plans to come up to richmond again soon? we miss you! πŸ™‚

      December 12, 2011 at 10:11 am

  8. one of your best…I had to comment this time!!! splendid….though I would have removed train, as it made the metaphor too general, so I remove it in my head when I read it lol. AWESOME work!!!

    December 9, 2011 at 1:31 pm

    • wow–thanks. nice to hear from you! πŸ™‚

      December 12, 2011 at 10:12 am

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