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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 6, Number 2, June 2012

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Carol Pearce-Worthington
New York City, New York, USA


A Boy on the Train

Summer dusk. A train speeds south beside a river. A little boy sitting behind me, says: Grandfather! Boats! Many boats not going. Sleeping. The man answers. Boats all sleeping.

when he was born
and washed and succored
how tall were the trees

Eventually the far shore vanishes into the night. Lights brighten inside where women laugh, computer keys tap. The little boy says: Father is here. Mother is here. Where is God? No god, his grandfather says. No god anywhere. The train sways in darkness.

petals flung back
a daffodil
faces the sun

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