I find myself longing listening straining to hear the train
Whistle when it traveled once across the tracks
Between buildings and lingered in the bare branches with the winter air
Shave and a haircut, no bits,  it surprised and haunted
A secret message to a lonely lover or perhaps a parentless child
Except that it came to me and fell on my ears and made ME smile
I can’t remember what deal we made
Was I supposed to recognize?
Did I forget to answer back?
Where are you now that I am settled and waiting ready
For the joy that you engendered once, now replaced with expectation
And silence



(Thank you to the late painter Francis Bacon for providing inspiration where there was none.)

~ by April on January 25, 2013.

2 Responses to “11:06pm”

  1. Eloquent, fragile and beautiful

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