24 Feb

two trains from opposite directions
moving toward one another at different speeds;
one train leaves the station at…
and the other at…
at which time do they meet?
i hated those problems in school.
always got the wrong answer.
it was Friday afternoon and i was hustling from the metro station,
trying to get home before the impending maelstrom
and open a crisp bottle of Wild Turkey.
i liked watching autumn storms roll in from my window
with a couple of fingers and the radiator blasting.
the boy came at me on the sidewalk
as discombobulated as the weather behind me;
his laces were untied and he carried
a gargantuan rucksack on his back.
he was, maybe, ten or eleven.
the wind picked up fast and strong and blew off his hat.
he let it roll away into traffic
and i watched it go under the speeding wheels of a van
like a rabbit.
no one stopped; we were all hustling to beat the storm.
(two trains collide at…)
we passed one another quickly;
he looked up
i down
he was crying and i was embarrassed that i saw him;
that he saw me see him.
laces flailing like hyperactive spaghetti
wind sneaking into his jacket, under his shirt
blowing it up like a parachute.
he was headed into the November madness
of a black sky with his books;
and i was running away from it all
with mine.


2 Responses to “Brewing”

  1. momentofchoice 24/02/2009 at 8:54 AM #

    beautiful. see? good things can happen at 4:30am. :)

  2. (S)wine 24/02/2009 at 9:26 AM #

    Yes, thank you. Sometimes they do. Now back to the regularly-scheduled programming.

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