54 Readings | 0 Ratings

Perfect Dark

A train

insulating, kids

playing.  A warm sun

 

casting

stationary

light

 

through arched oaks.  At night

the dark

is perfect, here,

 

civilizations burning,

propellers

still spinning,

 

flashlights 

walking.  But it’s not

the rocks

 

and the river, inkling

of sky,

it’s the smell

 

of family,

the feeling

of time,

 

language

remembering,

like a deep sea

 

diver

resurfacing, the people

passing by.

 


Posted 07/07/21
Comments (0)
Would you like to leave a comment on this profile? Join Ink Node for a free account, or sign in if you are already a member.