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Ways Of Not Arriving

My mind drifts loose 
into the moving art framed by train window.
Houses in the field glitch by— 
brick red roofs and windows
that hold sunset across the champaign.
I wonder what it’s like to live
in that world, where you
wake and rest with the sun.

My gaze drifts to clouds
light as swan feathers.
Their dance—effortless, unrepentant 
as the sunset dyes them tangerine and pink.
I wonder what it's like to live 
in their world, where you 
count days with how the wind blows.

——A sharp whistle stole my attention.
The train slowly comes to a stop.
The city busy flickering 
neon signs that can give a girl seizures.

I collect myself back, 
just enough to function— 
The rest can stay loose 
with the clouds and the lovely red roofs.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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