The train passes and I kneel to touch the creaking iron.
Expecting heat, expecting flattened pennies,
my hand — rests. There are only locusts left,
and the cool shushing of the river.
Curiaudio
Songs for Curious Girls
The train passes and I kneel to touch the creaking iron.
Expecting heat, expecting flattened pennies,
my hand — rests. There are only locusts left,
and the cool shushing of the river.
A sound I miss! Not even an echo of a train in Newfoundland…