les pauvres cœurs


Monday, August 13, 2007

For Nora

Waiting
Trees, mountains, my life passes by
wonderous windows.
Trains. Trains.
Clickety-clack down the track
As minds atrophy into
trashy romance novels
I pulsate one thought
multiplied
divided
added:
Home. Home. Home
that is lost
that is where the what is.
Heart. Heart. Heart
already beating in time with the rails.

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