Grounded beside iron feet
I look up and through
crazy house of mirrors.
The tunnel repeats support
again and again
waiting for its reason
for being.
The trestle bridges valley
and river anchoring
bluff to bluff where
brave men taunted death
straddling
someone else's blueprint dreams.
This train I wait for
comes speeding,
rumbling along
trust's thin, taut
high wire.
2 comments:
You have a good eye for framing.
And your poem is very good!
Bautiful Verse... I enjoyed it so much..
Shashi
Om Namah Shivaya
http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com
@VerseEveryDay
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