JenniferMaxwell
Senior Member
since 09-14-2006
Posts 1851
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0 posted 04-13-2010 10:54 PM
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“He plays a dream.
She plays a feather.
They fly.”
From “Pronouns” by Dunya Mikhail
there are no other passengers left on the train only the girl carrying a domed cage. the others have pressed their faces against dark panes and flown away into the emptiness. but cool water drips from stars into the cup and moonlight’s tranquility slips through the bars unseen. lonesome is only a midnight train whistle, a man all in black song, the girl with the empty cage is a wisp of cloud the warmth of sunlight the scent of lilacs after morning rain the voice of a stranger who calls out your name in your dreams who opens dew covered arms at daybreak and beckons you out of lost corners into a blue feathered landscape.
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