when memories
stay and crowd the present
mingle like strangers on a train
a journey to a destination
crosses time like clack-ety tracks
to make rhythms of rolling thoughts
new ways to see old things, discovery
jostles like strangers twice seen,
riding old rails to the first smile…
2 comments:
in a way, we are all hostages to memories that make us 'ride old rails'...
amazed at your ability to recreate a whole event or draw a picture based on a glimpse of a smile.
Howard, your poems for me are always 'new ways to see old things, discovery'
i really had an image of a train ride, the feel of it. The US is a rich country but our rails are strictly from hunger, and when i worked for thee railroads- rode them a lot, was a back breaking grind-- but the feeling was amazing-- touching miles and miles of steel...H
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