How has the shadowy, clinking train
of my life taken me here
to be exposed in all of my brokeness
by this brilliant, heavenly beam?
If I'd had time to prepare
I'd have caulked these cracks
and electrical taped my soul back to my shoe
but you came like a fickle cat
to land where it was inconvenient
I prayed you'd be lenient
as you saw my disjointed state
I've never been worthy of a thing in this world
so maybe I should have felt less surprised
by the care you gave to this old locomotive out of steam
Now I dream of your skin
glowing, alabaster curtain inviting me in
to the welcoming light inside
I thought once I was there you would let me stay
but I held that curtain with two rough and withered hands
too tight, too coarse for such delicate fabric
The train whistle roared as I fell
and I looked just in time to see the cars clink by
curtains dancing playfully on the breeze of its wake
destined for some distant stop
for hands smoother and stronger than mine

Posted Sunday, June 22nd 2003