Page 70 - The Woven Tale Press Vol. III #12

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hand in ringed hand, we dashed to our car while rice
flew like stars
and the dark train sped fast along the river.
And if
I found the way would you
could you, could we
follow those tracks, back
down along the river, whistle in the dark while the silver train cuts through night tides surging, the great memory of water returning, returning
to the sea.
Sit my love, the candle flickers and the moon is full, listen
the crickets are at it again punching holes in the
great ticket of the night their great hunger swelling again, again.
Look, summer stars
brilliant as gems --
while we were busy, evening slipped a ring over
the hand of day.
Our candle flickers now alert
to any shift, a blink
or toss of eye that might
turn diamonds into
coal.
Lets hold our breathe and dive, or run, catch that train, silver arrow hurtling back
twenty years, that night
night train