mjh
"Sometimes . . . sometimes I feel like a rose . . ."
Back to the beginning . . .
Any and all poetry found on this page
is original and the exclusive property of misijane hibner
© 1998 ~ 2001
please do not reprint without permission
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| Ya know, some times I find myself standing on these tracks. One minute I'm eating or reading or even talking and then, quick as lightning strikes, I'm here again, staring at these tracks and wondering why I'm so fascinated with them. I'm holding down the terror, but it's there, just under the surface. I watch the red lights begin to flash and hear the bell start to ring. I really don't want to, but I can't stop myself turning and staring straight at the train. The cool, damp air caresses me without really touching me. I can even taste the bittersweet, metallic fear and can't swallow because my throat is too dry to work. Suddenly, I'm standing there looking at ME and I shout and I push -- THE TRAIN IS COMING! -- I pull and scream "MOVE!" -- IT CAN'T SEE ME! -- I strike me but I don't move -- THE HORN SOUNDS! -- "COME ON!" -- I FEEL THE HEAT OF THE TRAIN! -- I dive at me and both of me gets run down but I don't even hurt . . . the terror just slams through me pulsing with the passing cars in strong surges . . . and I scream . . . mjh |
"Sometimes . . . sometimes I feel like a rose . . ."
Back to the beginning . . .
Any and all poetry found on this page |