Different Tracks

May 17, 2013 at 9:07 pm (history, literature, philosophy, Poems, poetry, sociology, Stories) (, , , , , , )

The very opening lines of rail-road relationships
splinter intentions.
Parallel people like us may never roll together,
our distance fixed;
and stations may fall before we two deign to meet.

When you slide off your own confounded tracks
it is me who cries,
your own oily tears lost in gritty ballast;
and at my earnest signal,
you uncouple us roughly, re-align and speed away.

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4 Comments

  1. Anna :o] said,

    Brilliant!

    Anna :o]

  2. nobodysreadingme said,

    I didn’t see where this was going till the very last line. That made me wince…
    😉

    • Julia Dean-Richards said,

      Wince is a good word. I looked it up – apparently, it came from old English winsen – to kick. I feel a poem coming on 😉

please feel free to comment on these poems - all feedback appreciated. :)

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