Locomotives

Absence makes the heart grow fonder”
“Out of Sight out of mind
It’s hard to leave the past behind
 
And so the heart lingers in the past
on a hitch pulled by the hurried brain
It’s a reluctant train 
howling through the fog
of memory and destinations promised
 
And the premise is precarious
on the grinding wheels
that carry us to the place
where we seek solace,
a load to relieve
 
It’s a depot where we rest long enough
to gather vagabonds
and glares from trainspotters
before we chug on
with the weight of all that freight,
smokestacks spewing
wasted time
and still attached to what’s behind
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Published in: on October 26, 2012 at 12:27 am  Comments (2)  
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Santa Fe in September

It’s been a long, hot summer
stretched out
like lazy men resting in hammocks,
and now, driving the country roads,
the landscape cloaked in sepia tones;
yellows, browns, and clay
and the weight of sun’s rays
hot on my collarbone
are what drive me home.
 
My troubles?
Just those water slick mirages
400 ft ahead.
 
The tumbleweeds ‘long the railroad tracks
are spent and dehydrated tangled brat’s heads
waiting for Autumn’s reaping wind
to lop them from their earthly neck
and send them rolling like poor Antoinette
down ghost town roads.
 
The fruit stands are closed.
 
The corn walls were hauled off
like a set change
ready for the second act. 
The barren fields, 
harvest’s yield,
already nestled into cellar beds;
jars of toil for mouths unfed.
 
But here am I
in Indian summer oblivion
soaking the last blobs of color
from valley horizons,
meditating in the last throes
of a spent landscape
before full resignation.
Published in: on October 21, 2012 at 11:21 pm  Leave a Comment  
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