Category Archives: poem

train whistle in the rain

From Alice B. Johnson’s “Where Children Live” (my great-grandmother’s book of poetry)

Why must I sleep so lightly when the rain
Beats dismally against my window pane,
Through dark and endless hours of the night
That fill themselves with loneliness and fright?
Why must I lay awake and sometimes hear,
Not only rain — but suddenly and clear,
The whistle of a speeding troop-filled train?
Such lonely sounds at night —
Train whistle —
Rain.

untitled (big bang)

if you were there you heard only static
like
a steady hum

until the collisions happened
and then
things
were born and
things started accelerating out

now all these things
mean so little
make no sound in the vacuum
of space
but they keep pushing
outward.

[author’s note – Blogger has been down the past several days! We’re back up and running now – thanks for your patience! I also had the special joy of seeing my little sister get married this weekend! It was beyond amazing! I’m so happy for Leanne and Gary!]

to Robert Plant circa 1971

it’s midnight – we are now
twenty-three,
if i lean just so out the window
your hand will
curve to the bare
small of my back
while the other will gently
tap the steering wheel,
all of this
just as the California dusk
takes a breathless gasp
at the sight of
night

then when
the smoke has cleared
and tea has surrendered
to breezes exploring their sheer
surface we’ll be
finding bare footing on
the cold metal rungs
of the fire escape
with nothing –  nothing
but to believe in
our immortality and to fill
blank seconds of
night