Fin Part Trois

Like the leaves squeezed into bags that line my street,
it’s time for me to rest my fingers’ beat.
Like the epic finale to Purple Rain,
this   train   that’s   mine   has   bled   sweet   feasts.

Each  car that chugs along:
an   overcrowded   taste–
at the intersections of so long ago
and just now–
of   gleeful   childhood   scenes
and   overwhelming   grownup   trees.

All   of   it   flies   past   my   barred   window.
Till I am safely back here
looking into the cold eyes of winter coming.


2 thoughts on “Fin Part Trois

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s