The wind blows.

Tracking, violating, a little train on its way
to the E island for the ninety-fourth time this day
in this infinitesimal airport, this enormous node
converged of weaves of space,
meaning collided.

A young woman gazing somewhere not special,
until my sight aligned with hers: rail unravels
its skeleton as the train forwards
only as bitten by the steal heaviness, that
guises dumb voyagers, a heavy lightness
inside.

Tapped by sound, a haphazard feeling of mind, I
percept couples prattling in native English
from scattering finches called home
Drifting away or reflowing towards,
adjacency suspends in lenses of all.

Afraid
to envision the scent of seeds unplanted,
to dwell on questions without an answer,
to defy gravity,
I know you are too.

The wind blows.

Departing with my hue of strength found in all that I lacked,
a sprawl of bouncing breeze leaves my tune beneath the rail.