The train tracks hobble along
winding the path uncertain, marked
by washed away cliffs;

once, this river flowed much higher.
however, with the motives of time
secretly in tow, the land has been revealed.
islands of parched throats arose,
monuments of a thirsty earth.

this has all been recreated in a controlled
environment, but this is not control.
this is hope. A dream of flying.
please defy these laws.

one moment will come when these
thirsts will be satisfied.
and in the moments following:

this train will be amputated from
these tracks, broken bones
without a cast to mend-

and, across the river,
this airport will fall to its knees.

08/24/2004

Posted on 08/25/2004
Copyright © 2024 Andrew S Adams