The Train

 

It was in black and white, but I remember it as in color.

Paintings in the past colored by different eyes cast shadow

and light from a divergent angle

with eyes that blurred impression or

sharpened to realism.

The iron-road spiked

on to wooden rails is just

a track some surveyor laid out

and some engineer envisioned.

Claude, Pierre, Paul, and Henri engineered

with oil, and canvas tracks

the joy and suffering the Pullman

car can only carry.

 

 

 

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About johnsmithiiimxiii

John Smith, IIMXIII is the avatar of an award winning poet, artist, etc. who still lives in the Palouse country of the Pacific NW. He has not received much notice with his prose . . . but as his avatar, I hope that he keeps plugging along.

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