the sound of the tires
on the road beneath me
after the epectric engine
takes over the drive
reminds me of the trains
that used to pass outside
my bedroom window as a kid

there is a sickening feeling
being awake yet paralyzed
by the memories of youth
half expecting the next sound
to be the hanger against
already aching red flesh
as the train horn blares on

watching the temperature drop
in another parking lot
hiding under a tree as
the cardinals flit between
bare branches slapping in
between gales of frozen promise
beneath dreary skies alone