Wrecks That Are Human

Wrecks That Are Human

I mean to pick the sweet mint that grows wild on the hill
beside the railroad tracks, but I hear voices and squat,
narrowed into myself, and listening to the people under the trestle.
I can see them too, a man says, Happy Jack, where the hell
is that wood, and Happy Jack is laughing, which seems appropriate,
and he waves some small sticks, and a woman says, hurry,
it is cold, and it is cold, merely brisk to me though, in my warm jacket.
Lola, a tall man says, get those sticks from him, and she does so,
and hands them to the man who is busy blowing leaves, at least
six foot three, but folded now into his legs that rise as high
as a grass hopper, and he adds the sticks, and they light with the leaves,
and with a tissue the woman pulls from her jeans, and Happy Jack
is still laughing, as the woman smiles and says, you have it now,
I think it is going, and it is going pretty well, and no one is drinking wine,
the way everyone said the winos all did down by the tracks.
It appears they are simply cold and maybe hungry, I can't see any food
from here, just a plastic jug of water, and an old blanket, but the man seems
to value his accomplishment, rising tall and laying his hands on Lola.
It appears he is a hero, and Happy Jack drops down beside the fire,
his legs splayed out in front of him, like a child ready for a video game,
as Lola slips from beneath the arm of the man to lie on the blanket.
She points out the 3:10 train coming down the tracks, until it is passing
in high wind beside them, their hair blowing straight back, everyone staring
at the train that never wrecks, always moving on toward unknown destinations.

Reviews

[cest la vie]

Phibby,
Every Tuesday I drink coffee before work with a group of homeless guys. But you know what we call the homeless, they are very much at home out in this wide open world. This is perfection here my dear poetess.. Absolutely a perfect photograph into their world. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!

[Tracie Skarbo]

Oh you bring me on such wonderful adventures...your characters so full of life and breath...Stolen moments of a child's witness are a wonderful gift you give to us...so innocent and pure of heart.

[Eagle Cruagh]

I sense this to be a true experience and a ''
sad one.
"'The poor are always with us" someone said and
we wonder.

This is very well written and it seems to be a story
that need be told.

Thank you for sharing .

----- Eagle Cruagh