Train of Words - Oct. 14, 2024

Gary Hunter
Oct 13, 2024
1 min read

one could write a poem

on a train tree-flickered

sunlight through a window

a scroll of maples

and some quaking aspen

soft rumble of metal

rolling over metal

tight fit of wheels

on track and the clack

where they connect

I close my eyes to the

dervish of green

the rhythm of vibrations

my head on a pillow

of late-morning

a blanket of Canada

pulled over me

as my train of words

breaks apart

and derails

off the tracks

of my mind

Recent Posts

See All

Of Late Afternoons - Dec. 4, 2025

shade spills its ink over the backyard goldfish churn the surface of the pond lipping water for a 5 pm feeding yet to begin birds bank in on a breeze for a last drink blue dragonflies linger on darken

Judgements - Dec. 3, 2025

sometimes, I’m the cloud looking around the sky, assessing my own kind he’s too fat she’s too thin they’re too bossy, that one’s overly shy those are too white, and those not white enough I dispar

Light's Descent - Nov. 30, 2025

if I could capsulize my life now, it would be late afternoons, a recurring event of time spent staring out the picture window into a quieting backyard, shade chasing the sun’s paintbrush across the wa

Comments