poem: sitting at a red light on Main Street as a train passes by

30 Oct

sitting at a red light on Main Street as a train passes by

a train pulls through a quiet town
engineer sounds the horn
a car pulls to a red light that slides to the rhythm
of a midnight breeze

there are stars that fill a December sky
a sky so large
a sky so vast the heart aches at its simple touch

a traveler traces tears down smooth skin

a woman tries not to cry
tries not to breath in the air that surrounds her heart
      tries not to watch
black and white movies
      tries not to linger
on anything at all

she sleeps at last
breathes deep


the traveler
a simple man, really
      but a man nonetheless
moments of transition
slow to arrive
but his patience
that of monuments
holds fast

last star before morning rise sun
winks away
leaving an errant moon alone wrapped in blankets of purple
deep blue

the traveler smokes a cigarette
on the front porch of a small yellow house
a house unfamiliar
a house new but not yet filled
not yet broken in

a paperboy, a stereotype
on a Christmas gift bicycle
tosses the morning news
at the feet of the traveler
and the traveler laughs

eating the dinosaur

he is a dinosaur
his passion as well

but there are miles yet to go
and lies yet to leave


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