Fragile white sky
electric wire scars a
black crow scratching grit in frozen
gravel a black guitar case a
nickel chrome guitar inside it my
lungs white fragile scarred &
shattering in ice the sky will shatter
someday but perhaps not this morning it’s
19 degrees in Rawlins Wyoming
the massive frozen creak of Union Pacific
cars inching along the siding un-
certain atavistic yellow a
black backpack a black baseball cap a
pair of clip on sunglasses the
slivers of grass white &
broken across the embankment below the
siding the sky doesn’t
shatter I’m short of breath the
car’s loaded I’m going back some-
place I’ve never been the petrified
freight cars & locomotives hulk
waiting but the white sky won’t
shatter we will
say goodbye
say goodbye
say goodbye
Jack Hayes
© 2010
[To see other poems in this sequence, please click on the "UP Poems" label]
Great! It kind of crescendos when you read it aloud. Gave me goosepimples.
ReplyDeleteHi Dominic: Well, thanks so much! Glad it worked.
ReplyDeleteI hear Wheezing as the journey unfolds! Vivid Words & Images John.
ReplyDeleteLove the Ginsburg/Kerouac cadence!
ReplyDeleteHi Tony & K: Thanks--glad you both liked this.
ReplyDeletenickel chrome guitar inside it my
ReplyDeletelungs white fragile scarred &
shattering in ice the sky will shatter
I paused to take a breath after reading these lines, almost to check as if my own lungs weren't frozen.
The repetition of 'say goodbye' I also found effective - not just as a train rhythm, but something that suggests a voice growing quieter and more breathless with each repetition.
Hi HKatz: I often lose my breath reading my own poetry! So it goes. The "Say goodbye" lines are complicated in my own imagination--glad to hear they worked for you.
ReplyDeleteWonderful, John, but sad at the same time.
ReplyDeleteHi Karen: Thanks--there seems to be no escaping the fact that the UP Poems, for the time being at least, are taking a sad tack.
ReplyDelete