January 11, 2011

dried leaves

Rocked wood
Worn through polish
To bare
His baby sleep
Of old men
¤
Window sat
Hunched over bones
Swallowing another shot
Whisky stained night
Slurs into dawn
¤
Whiling away
The life he grew into
Freight train passenger
Thundered boxcar
Building fires
¤
He wakes
Another day
On rails of the long haul
Ever closer
To familiar sameness
¤
The collected yellow
Of dried leaves
His brittle bones
Still
In motion of spun earth

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

Love this!!!! *bows to greatness*

Brian Miller said...

wow. i think i know this guy...gotta be careful those leaves will fall apart...nice one shot.

Anonymous said...

Beautifully painted situation and scenery. The poem took me by the throat and pulled me in a train. Images of -INTO THE WILD- appeared. Compliments

Anonymous said...

Great work Heather.

Claudia said...

whisky stained nights got me..great write heather

Randall Weiss said...

I especially like "Ever closer
To familiar sameness."

Anonymous said...

For many moons I slurred into dawn..

Anonymous said...

You immediately pulled me in with -

"Rocked wood
Worn through polish
To bare"

You're one of my very favorite poets, Heather. You're amazing!

dani

Shashidhar Sharma said...

Dear Heather...

Its so lovely...thanks for sharing.


ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya
http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com
Twitter @VerseEveryDay

Steve Isaak said...

Wonderful line breaks, word pictures, tone.