capture no.2

Don’t hide
behind the language,

& means it:

sculpt your words
into the grumble

of trains
that rail in


beside a silentrunning
river, gray

like black

on a wet page

& verses punc-

with the mourning

as she slows
on the outskirts

of where yesterday
meets tomorrow.

That crossroads
is all there is.

15 thoughts on “capture no.2

  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

    • hey, how did you know there was a cat involved? 😉 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*

  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.

    • 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…

  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..

  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.


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