Sunday, March 17, 2013
Above the door of the train,unseen destinations
mapped out like sturdy veins under graffiti tattoos.
Emotionless conductor, the master of balance,
utters the names of places blurring into focus.
His words, for a moment firmly march,
then stretch out in futility -falling between- metal upon metal.
Against the curve, straining, the words jiggle free
become faint and vanish.
Like change that rolls out of sight under boots and heels.
Settling hidden, in a greasy dark corner.
The 100th Sunday Whirl- Congratulations Brenda! The words this week are: master, street, change, share, train, die, calls, stretch, march, words, places, create, faint