beneath lifeless eyes
whisper, “come here.”
As fangs display,
she leaps away
from the striking snake.
Shouting encouragement to her hoe
she swings, reflexively, reactively,
righteously in response to preemption.
As dead eyes flicker out,
wondering of fruit and trees.
The whistle seeps through my barely open window,
pushing fretful sleep
off the tracks.
The locomotive weeps with me about,
being restricted to rails,
preferring to reject prescribed paths.
The more it longs to escape the iron way,
the tighter it clings because,
it jumped before and
starred in the wreck.
So, it mourns on out of earshot
as I fall back to sleep.