In the gloomy gray
of some autumn day
The lone whistle of a train
carries down the tracks
the end of a season, sunny and sure
And in the silence
Of one season burying another
Comes a pathos so bittersweet
We hear it, as a plea
Hear it in the treetops back of the woods
a presence slowly walking
no hurry - last trip
down a bare dirt road
We thought we heard rustling
within the crops that stretch across the Midwest
But the fields are harvested long now
Left behind, stubbles and sticks
But sad to leave
Carried with it a knapsack filled
with ghosts and dreams.
Barely a flicker of light remained
When once the bright compass of its being
Filled sun-ups with expectancy
And sundown
with gaudy ribbons across the skies
Waved goodbye when it walked across Washington State
And felt fires at its back
Across California
Aflame too
Lands in between
Sweltering, smoking,
Gasping with sprays
Bees dying
A last odyssey across the earth
Where glaciers are melting
Final journey through
The holy lands of Mohammed and Allah
Car bombs exploded
Retaliation reined from the skies
Across Africa,
dancing the famine,
drought and genocide
Isaac washing on shore in Louisiana
Washing away the shore
Walked to keep walking
towards the sea
While remembering when first it came ashore
In a rhapsody of fire and comets
Planets shooting through the skies
And stars like diamonds
Splintering the universe.
Waters warmer now
And churning with hurricanes,
Typhoons naked
Spinning a requiem
Out to sea
Riding the high tides of eternity,
Swimming out
Leaving behind a lost, vengeful earth
And skies forked with fires
A final farewell then
Before down
to under the waters
From whence it came
And going with it
The knapsack filled with ghosts and dreams.
Author Bio:
Susan’s poems and fiction are on Hurricane Press, Ken *Again, Penman Review, Inner Art Journal, Feathered Flounder, Garbanzo, and Linden Avenue. In 2007, she won the grand prize for poetry from Oneswan. She has two published online chapbooks: Spaces Among Spaces bylanguageandculture.org and Bending the Spaces of Time by Barometric Pressure.
of some autumn day
The lone whistle of a train
carries down the tracks
the end of a season, sunny and sure
And in the silence
Of one season burying another
Comes a pathos so bittersweet
We hear it, as a plea
Hear it in the treetops back of the woods
a presence slowly walking
no hurry - last trip
down a bare dirt road
We thought we heard rustling
within the crops that stretch across the Midwest
But the fields are harvested long now
Left behind, stubbles and sticks
But sad to leave
Carried with it a knapsack filled
with ghosts and dreams.
Barely a flicker of light remained
When once the bright compass of its being
Filled sun-ups with expectancy
And sundown
with gaudy ribbons across the skies
Waved goodbye when it walked across Washington State
And felt fires at its back
Across California
Aflame too
Lands in between
Sweltering, smoking,
Gasping with sprays
Bees dying
A last odyssey across the earth
Where glaciers are melting
Final journey through
The holy lands of Mohammed and Allah
Car bombs exploded
Retaliation reined from the skies
Across Africa,
dancing the famine,
drought and genocide
Isaac washing on shore in Louisiana
Washing away the shore
Walked to keep walking
towards the sea
While remembering when first it came ashore
In a rhapsody of fire and comets
Planets shooting through the skies
And stars like diamonds
Splintering the universe.
Waters warmer now
And churning with hurricanes,
Typhoons naked
Spinning a requiem
Out to sea
Riding the high tides of eternity,
Swimming out
Leaving behind a lost, vengeful earth
And skies forked with fires
A final farewell then
Before down
to under the waters
From whence it came
And going with it
The knapsack filled with ghosts and dreams.
Author Bio:
Susan’s poems and fiction are on Hurricane Press, Ken *Again, Penman Review, Inner Art Journal, Feathered Flounder, Garbanzo, and Linden Avenue. In 2007, she won the grand prize for poetry from Oneswan. She has two published online chapbooks: Spaces Among Spaces bylanguageandculture.org and Bending the Spaces of Time by Barometric Pressure.
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