3 Poems

1.
The train lurched forward
like it had just come unstuck.

The miles and miles of grasslands,
trees, power lines, overpasses, bridges
and flashing lights were something to see
out the window, but when that track
was clear, the world outside spun by
in an intoxicating blur.

And that's the way this passenger
train moved sometimes.


2.
The birds outside were chirping,
he could hear them
even over the buzzing fans
that were supposed to be
cooling the house.

The attick was always steamy
this time of year, but it was
the best place to watch wildlife.

It had become a bit of a past time
for him to look out over the land
from high up in his house.
His heart sang on days like this,
but he didn't know how to
explain just what he'd heard
within his very own chest.

That's why he sometimes caught
himself looking back trying to
recall what his heart had said
and when. When he finally
gave up trying to distinguish
between his head and his heart,
that's when he went back to the humming
of the birds and fans coming down from
the top floor of his summer house.


3.
The foot struck ground rolling across
the dirt: heel, arch, ball, toes.

Up in the ankle there was a little click, while
the knee inaudibly popped and snapped.

The hip rotated with a calm
unequaled except by that of the bobbing
of the head upon the neck. Only the
arms swung forward and back
simultaneously with a grace
that moved the second foot to
plant, lifting only to balance the
strong radiating motion of the torso.

Yes, the shoulders made their noise
too, imperceptible to the untrained ear.
The scent of the raw earth entering the
nose and exiting through the eyes, while the
lips parted to reveal a set of teeth
that protected a soft and moist tongue
which rested, tasting the sweet green
fragrant air of the garden in which
the feet played and prayed for more.