Stranger stories

Inside, a want that was not known as such.

Outside, a train perforated the familiar blackness.

The iron tide of my childhood.

Behind every window a life.

To watch the instant of passage

and feel sadness fill the vacuum

of other lives not known.

There is no living another life.

To sit among them is only to change

perspective and to wish

to know instead the stories

of every house pinned to the guessed-at hills.

To feel the loss of tales it was never mine to know.

Who can answer when

you do not trust the question ?

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2 Responses to Stranger stories

  1. scarletpoetions says:

    i like the poem. It’s like you’re passionately sharing a story to a person you just met 🙂

  2. linda sarah says:

    This is so beautiful – and I completely fell in love with the line:

    Outside a train perforated the familiar blackness.

    Thank you so much for once again transporting me dreamily far away…

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