MICHELLE McCARRON

Journal

Lone tree with poem

021613_Trossachs-9934
021613_Trossachs-9934

I travel roads and discover new places. Deep in the heart of new countries. Deep in the heart of me. Mostly I go lightly hardly noticing a load. Then suddenly one day I feel the weight of my own heart. How can something that is so seemingly light within you become so heavy in an instant? I suppose our hearts weren't meant to be forgotten and occasionally we are to be reminded that they need to be carried. Like the lake that carries the lone tree and the tracks that carry the train.

TRAIN

A train runs west to east

Sun streams through a window, through her

Pooling dappling on a table laden to nourish and care

Outside a river flows forever through the city

Inside two lives, tributaries

Till this point separate

Become one.

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A train runs east to west

Strangers no more but still not there

Cold night becomes warm

Two souls together, hopeful but scared

Night becomes day

Awake alone

What is it for?

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A train leaves the station

Brings one back home

A bicycle carries the other, hearts forlorn

On a beach the tide is turning

Where earlier two people shared a day

Now washed ashore like sand

In a mound of shimmering moments.