no screeching last night in quiet light wind
the train was someone in grandma’s slippers
sliding along the linoleum kitchen floor
hardly going anywhere
and the whistle was not a blaster
instead it gave soft puffs
like puh, with a long breath between the next muh,
mah, ma, as if needed to be picked up and cuddled
the train was someone in grandma’s slippers
sliding along the linoleum kitchen floor
hardly going anywhere
and the whistle was not a blaster
instead it gave soft puffs
like puh, with a long breath between the next muh,
mah, ma, as if needed to be picked up and cuddled
1 comment:
I stop in and read your poems on occasion. I found a link to your site from a comment you made on JKA's site. I really like this poem. It employs effective imagery and has a wonderful, soothing mood.
Post a Comment