that night, she dreamt of trains
By

    that night, she dreamt of trains


    she dreamt of winding northbound tracks

    and of wandering southbound birds

    and tracing the patterns of their flight

    on a tinted window


    the birds were larger than she remembered

    a thousand times larger and a thousand times more golden


    she dreamt of a little girl with hair the color of a dry spell

    and eyes the color of a rain dance

    and of the maps she used

    to pretend that there was no such thing

    as distance


    she dreamt of a woman with fingers

    thick as telephone lines

    who had a handshake that was stronger and surer than the devil’s


    and she remembered when she first met the devil

    he took the form of a strange-eyed man with delicate bones

    and blew into town on a wind so warm and mild

    that they mistook him for a cloud of spring dandelions

    and for a season he sold such lovely wishes

    such harmless, affordable wishes

    that it was a shame to see him go


    she dreamt of a baby boy with beautiful, blasphemous skin

    a darling infant antichrist

    almost weightless in her arms

    with a smile crooked like a hammock

    a rope swing

    a clumsy paper boat that danced like a naiad in a swirling green creek


    and she dreamt of moonless nights when the air was

    as warm and thick and dark as the bottom of a cup of coffee

    and the exceedingly bright summers

    that once existed in a state of delicious permanence


    and she thought she remembered a road with a humble name –


    a road, lovingly traveled, that led to

    a familiar nowhere

    that she once knew by heart

    Comments

    blog comments powered by Disqus
    Please read our Comment Policy.