Home When Snow Falls
Her sleeve, loose
pink pajama - silk
material - she
hugs a pillow...
Seat #34. his
mouth is wide
open, snores -
hesitates - snores
again...
those two in
front, lean right,
lean left, and right
to join, touch shoulders
and strange voices
sing in free space
which isn’t free
above their heads…
The metal wheels you
brought, shake the
metal door near the
glass window as spines
move side to side
and the train passes
a little city, outside of
Baltimore…
The conductor,
slams on his
brakes, the chair,
slams into the back
of Seat #67, no
one was there, or
the strange voices
slipped beyond
our view.
To our east a sun
rises, and orange
marmalade cities come
alive in November…
before the darkness
comes – snow flakes
will fall.
Nancy Duci Denofio
all right reserved
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