Glass Poetry Press

Volume Two Issue Two

Tom Gribble

The Train's Twist of Light

Outside, cold got to be boss If the temperature dropped below minus twenty-five, steel rails shattered People watched their tragedies through night's window Mountains pulled themselves toward the sky Moon drank from its own pond The locomotive's headlight burned through new snow A sudden tunnel broke the cataleptic beat We plunged into a mountain's nape and entered our tombs Across the aisle, the grave of a pharaoh opened in AP photos Tut in a newspaper caught colors in lights dimmed for sleep My eyes moved along the rails … my muscles held me to steel The night washed my translucent body The diesel-headed engine's stubbornness pulled our time toward a storm Midnight's Moon shook in a glass of red wine