TRAIN RIDE TO BERLIN AND A MAN WALKS ON THE TRACKS
It was easy because we didn't
see it, were told it, watched
European birds become
any bird through the window
a landscape becoming
any landscape of muted color
that the birds know & name
& keep secret in the clear distance
the train on its track
paused on an air
of death and an exhalation
final and felt finally
years later in Michigan
or nowhere all the same
there were things to be done
inertia does not stop
but transforms into
another object we wanted
to say sorry
sorry for the metal & the absence
sorry for what brought you
to the track & asked you
to lean over it
the smooth iron worn
& warm in the sun against your face
& then a greater warmness
sorry for the birds
for how they abuse the unseen
even as we watch
dinner is waiting in the city
sorry for the hunger
of not wanting to be you
but here & knowing
in your absence
that we exist without
seeing you or it
or what exactly holds
any bird in place.
TYPO
34
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