Poised above, heeding vaporous specters
rising up above the trains, swirling steam
pushing up from black plated tracks, a dream.
Two on an unknown colliding vector.
She knew naught, but imagined all. A train
never to arrive during light of day.
Nor delivering her love in night’s gray
silence under the moon’s desolate wane.
Somewhere, the stalling holding her true heart,
leaving her alone without a journey
to curious places where lovers cleave.
Once a chance meeting now shattered apart.
A train’s late advent not hearing her plea
for his lips. Their kiss she’ll never receive.
Tonight at Wednesday Afternoon Writers, we worked with a prompt that was a photo of a train station showing a bridge with people looking down on the trains. There were other ideas for a story which I used to write a sort of a found poem:
To know is nothing at all, to imagine is everything. Anatole France
Two railroad trains on a collision course…
A journey to an exotic location…
Standing alone in a railroad station…
A train that is always late…
Waiting for a train that never arrives…
A chance meeting on a train…
Somewhere, a stalled car on the tracks…
I enjoy writing sonnets. They make you fit things together snuggly. Sometimes they sound natural. That’s a good one. Other times, they are just good exercises for the writer’s brain. :0)