Thursday, November 4, 2010

The Brunswick Line, 2010

Squeaky ache of squat wheels on cold steel track
departing near dawn with breath amber haloed
by vapor light from green poles of an earlier time,
a journey begins on rails ended by bolted plates:
there is only one direction in which to travel now,
south to the city of mausoleums and white stone.

The posted grid announces a three departure limit,
there are no good clocks for leaving smoky warmth-
all three hands are dark antique before the sun,
blue vinyl seats split in spots to soiled foam,
frosted cornfields grazed by shadowy deer
near grey tracks bent by the crescent moon.


  1. What a delightful painting of colours, textures, sounds and atmosphere...

  2. I pull my collar up and closer, glad to be stepping aboard, wondering what the day might bring. A very literal piece for you. I wonder on the metaphor that I might be missing.

    I enjoyed this very much.


  3. @Jinksy: Thanks Jinksy. This doodle was a doddle.

    @WIAW: If you see no metaphor, there is no metaphor. I'm on an extended roadtrip and just capturing some moments. For a even more literal take, try


  4. So vivid- and hark! I hear the wail of a North Jersey Coast train.

  5. @Anonymous: Chalk it up to the universality of train travel. The was the Brunswick line of MARC in Maryland. Same cars as NJ Transit though. Much nicer landscape though. Ha!

  6. Beautiful. "Squeaky ache" says so much. This piece departs a bit from your usual style. I like it. A lot.

  7. this is lovely!! the tracks, the destination that beckons, the details .... right down to the foam bursting out of the seats
    and all those great train sounds....

  8. Great colours and the right rhythm to this poem to fit the subject.

  9. @willow: Thx willow. I've just been doing some little 'sketches' as a way of recording my journey. Way more accessible, right?

    @Harlequin: My pleasure. Glad you liked it.

    @Gordon: Cheers.