poem –
We took the train past five o’clock
The sun was falling fast
Some rail line, between two rays
Of freeway overpass
There were two plays, one in her hand
Which slipped between the reel
Like old film grain, that magnet dust
Disintegrates the steel
Against the wave of dark
We made our way as one
Speaking in a language that to others
Must have surely seemed as tongues
There was a city to be scene
On the other side of town
The present though, was distant then
And is surely farther now
A sketchbook opened mirror hand
The classic photograph
A blur became a second end
The play of light turned daft
In stop frame pauses, a rustle breathed
Bringing dead leaves down
We made our way past five o’ clock
Into the silence of our sound
