The Broken Boxcar

      At an unsteering speed of stoppage,
      Detourned from straight tracks and wages
      Into a listless field gone over 
      Mostly to pale thick-blossomed clover,
5     A boxcar keeps still its steel rails
      Going both ends nowhere in parallel.
      At the blackness of the door
      A bandit gathers gold once more,
      Pulling yellow raspberries
10    From some single spray above the weeds,
      Reaching the rarewire richness
      With nimble hands and quickness,
      Palming sunset tears from thorns;
      The racoon drinks them one by one.
15    Nothing comes to the rusted hitch
      Clawing air above a gopher ditch,
      No iron hand arrives to steer
      And with knuckled coupling make a pair,
      To clasp its open mate from the clearing
20    Into a sky of tear-streaked stars
      Where time would hoist a husky boxcar
      From its slatted stall and decay
      To paradise, all the way.
      Yet in the eye of a ruffed robin,
25    On her hopeful nestful throned within
      Where the red roof caves in
      From leakage and mineral rain,
      Glints a hint of levitation-
      In her high eye alone it seems
30    A flying boxcar bursts with wings
      Like eyelashes; below it, everything
      Lies amiably disordered,
      Earthbound and solemnly sordid,
      While heavenly visitors to her nest
35    Feed her safe chicks, and she rests.
      So much of vision came to eye, and awed.
      A unpersuaded caw cawed
      From the litter of the field
      The hunching crow refused to yield,
40    A black bold spot that picked for trash
      In weeds gone bright to whiteness.
      Now only time, for what it's worth
      Flying still on its changeful path,
      Turns the structure in its soft clutch
45    Like a moody sleeper back to earth.

 

From the collection "The Timid Leaper"

Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]

More information available on gregglory.com.