eclipse Posted May 24, 2011 Share Posted May 24, 2011 In a carriage I watch a man with cloud shaped eyebrows as he sleeps, the movement of his eyes isn't as accurate as the groove of the train and the stain on his shirt isn't as as deeply red as the patch in the sky threatening rain. In a rhythmic incantation he starts to speak-steam and smoke steam and smoke, the pitch of his voice reaches it's peak- he must have reached the destination of his first dream, straightening his eyebrows as he wakes. I start to unzip my cardigan in the stuffy carriage.The eyes of passengers looking out form tracks for the horizon to run along. We pass lampposts-the snow dressed branches of a tree resembles a chandelier. The call of a thrush sat on a snow wrapped tree stump isn't quite clear-he is the fire in a lamp lighting a candle. A digger picks up rubble, a man dithers and has trouble with a crossword clue, in a field an owl hovers before targeting a shrew. A mother sprays deodorant-outside hundreds of starlings gather into a murmuration. The feet of a crow make no impression at all on black snow, a mother's young brood try to navigate her dark mood. The snow-jeweled eyes of a scarecrow do not offer lies, I watch his shivering wrist and the passing of a sheeted mist spread against the window- a little boy pushes his nose against the glass and the scarecrow watches the boys diamond eyes pass. I finish unzipping my cardigan revealing an “I love Scarborough ” t-shirt. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Join the conversation
You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.