Sherry Chandler » Lines
Lines
A distant midnight-rumbling train rattles
the windows and the cat snuggles closer
to my shoulder blades. Rambling men
and tracks that run straight to the horizon
are not part of a woman’s mythology.
Except when she’s the butt of a traveling sales-
man joke, a woman’s dreams are not linear,
unless, of course, the line circles round
the whole wide world to form Ouroboros,
the Yin and Yang of it, what goes around
comes around like a cat curled
into a ball against my shoulder blades
as the world turns toward the dawn, toward
another spring, another distant rumbling train.
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2 Comments
1. Tommy replies at 22nd March 2008, 10:18 am :
I’m not sure men’s thoughts run in straight lines any more than women’s thoughts. Certainly the railroad of my thoughts has many sidings and turnings and interconnections. I guess it’s just the method of my thinking that leads me all over and makes connections with everything.
I like the poem. I’m not sure it’s entirely circular, since at the start of the verse it’s a “midnight rumbling train” and at the end “the world turns toward the dawn,” so there’s some progress there, some advancement.
2. sherry replies at 22nd March 2008, 10:47 am :
Ah, but Tom, as sure as the world turns toward light, it will turn back toward dark again.
Anyway, I wouldn’t give this post a title so grandiose as poem. More a guideline, really.
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