Hold You Under

The backyards
I’ve had all end
at a railroad track,

such vastness
beyond, flashing
a theremin tune.

Sun up for steel
and burnt days
in the prairie,

contemplating
the run, growing
with the ruin, not

the sacrifice. All hands
and spirits tearing
at bleached loam

to lay a line more
eternal, etched
not with any name–

It wasn’t me,
I didn’t tell them
to cross cold

beams, bury
their dreams under
sand and metal…

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