THE HIDDEN TRACK

The following passages are dedicated to Leopold, to the vernacular, to certain evil women (you know who you are), to certain wonderful people(they know who they are), to soft afternoons and quiet Sunday evenings, to Fall and seeing your breath for the first time since Spring, and to Isabelle Ya Feng ... a soul slipped by like two ships passing in the still, moonlit sea.
-- Abraham Ahmed, the Surfing Beatnik



The Morning Freighter Out of Denver...


I was awakened by the 5:45, churning forward and approaching.
To the hard ground I said goodbye, feeling sympathetic to all my encroaching.
The engines past, two maybe three, followed by passengers, sleepers and such.
Though très chic cabins were not for me, a flat or box car or tanker or bust.
Posted by

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)