09 December 2009


This started as a poem in response to reading a bunch of Emily Dickinson. It evolved a bit.

Unattended (12/8)

There is a carriage moving in the wood with no passengers no driver no horses -

The metal wheels bump off roots and rocks the curtains spindle in no wind -

A suitcase falls loose and white things fly into daylight then muddy themselves -

The carriage is moving through countryside animals flee it carries -

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