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.
5.08.2012
darien
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This is really wonderful. The train as a swan....wowzers.....and the fingerprints of generations. Great write!
ReplyDeleteOur swans are less lofty than we might hope, as well. Often preening in the murky shallows.
ReplyDeleteI love your train poems.
yeah, i have a whole bunch now, i'm realizing! :)
ReplyDeleteperfect imagery...gritty
ReplyDelete:) thanks, old monk.
ReplyDeleteLove this Marian.
ReplyDeletei love grit but I love the fact I think the swan and the girl are the same.
ReplyDeletethat's a compliment
great imagery
thanks, friends xoxo
ReplyDelete