5.08.2012

darien

The train rumbles by
a huge white swan
treading in muddy water,
dust rising from a gravel pit.
Why wouldn't such a creature
choose a more bucolic site
for preening? wonders the girl
who's looking at the world
through glass smudged 
with the grimy fingerprints
of generations.

8 comments:

  1. This is really wonderful. The train as a swan....wowzers.....and the fingerprints of generations. Great write!

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  2. Our swans are less lofty than we might hope, as well. Often preening in the murky shallows.
    I love your train poems.

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  3. yeah, i have a whole bunch now, i'm realizing! :)

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  4. i love grit but I love the fact I think the swan and the girl are the same.

    that's a compliment

    great imagery

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