A picture in every direction

Up the uneven stone steps, above the valley
The sound of the train approaches, then slows

The brakes squeal on the tracks, then release:

It’s the sound of a sabre that cleaves the valley,
the sound of ancient times
and far-away stops

The dark of the valley slowly comes to light:
the Germans are stirring in their kitchens,
the clock tolls the marking of time,
the Romans taught them this:

It is all covered in moss,
the stone is held intact,
the valley opens to the sky.

Categories: MöbiusTrip, poetry, travel


Leave a comment!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: