Metamorphosis

Wings that never failed now crumble to dust

on a window sill.

A moth that once fluttered in the moonlight

has descended into the dark.

Particles of the past hover invisibly all around us.

Black holes erase memory and time.

The horizon is altered.

Green mountains bloom on an ancient burial ground.

Wishes and prayers float on a cloud high above us.

Birds make nests. We make do. 

On A Train In France

I’m on a train in France hurtling past nuclear reactors.

They look like giant sculptures.

Their hips and waists are shaped like women.

They power all of Paris.

They power the lights of the Eiffel Tower,

the underground electric rails and the Champs-Élysées. 

I talk to myself while I sleep.

I try to decipher the signs but nothing is certain.

I voyage into the dark without words to guide me.

I’ve lost my passport. Who can I call?

Where can I go?

When will I wake?