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Posts Tagged ‘book’

A Night on a Train Window

I don’t know that face that’s
over mine, it seems old,
not in years but in time spent,
it stares back, through me and
I stare through it
floating on a night-train window.

I focus on the whites of his eyes
to not see the black of them
and wish I had another drink so
I could forgive, forget the world
flicking by, through my
translucent face, printed smears
of distorted sweeping concrete
and light, black air and purple
silhouetted trees, missing fields
with broken flowers after heavy rain,
and litter angels picking up
what they can find on the streets.

It goes by so fast.
I don’t talk to you anymore,
you are in the past
and I cannot get there.

Am I the train or the dark air,
the seat or the glass,
those eyes or the sadness
of that translucent mess?

Am I the past tracks,
or am the next?

Kyle McHale            2016

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The Warming Cold

Sweet snow powdered white wintry ground,
A place where my senses are keen,
Big sky is far from black with stars,
Serious ways, confusing dreams,

Have led to this culmination.
The coastline is out there afar,
Water holding secrets to life,
Floating pieces of what we are.

Cratered moon is in second place,
Though any other night it would
Steal my gaze to its secrets.
A night alone in deep cold woods.

Ice shield sides of far ridge lines
Parallel the ridge in my thoughts,
Tempting my senses to tingle,
Wishing for bear or arctic fox

Spirit to help contain my mind,
For cold white wild is calling.
Coastline follows to meet the ridge,
Ridge then seeks the live sky falling

Away to vast arctic places
That stretch their wonders to my feet,
To ask me questions without answers,
A place where cold and soul do meet.

It’s frozen time that keeps me here,
Just one thing is moving slowly,
The colors dance up in the air,
Reflecting on me fully.

This place is known by several names,
The sky is called different things,
Frozen rocks and trees lay still,
Compilation of all things,

Stir up my thoughts and frozen dreams
To hit my heart so very deep,
For in this wild dancing place
The warming cold I have to keep.

Kyle McHale      2008

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