Bones and Sand

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Bones and Sand

At my core I am bleached bone
And blood red.
I have gray matter, and
Rich purple in my liver.
Pink lungs and green eyes.
I have mountains in my hair
And beaches on my skin.
My body is a world,and in time,
I will fill the spectrum
Full of my life’s colors.

—-

I have been working in a terrible job, in a horrid cubicle, in a boring building. It’s sucking the life out of me. So I think I must go elsewhere.

Also missed half of NaPoWriMo – don’t think I’ll me making up the difference this month.

Train Travel

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It’s nice to travel on a train.
It helps to see the breadth of the land,
Witness the gradual shifts from slum cities
To barren fields just sparking with new green,
From flat expanses that let you see the whole horizon
To mountains that barely let you see around the bend
And only offer the sky as an outlet.
A train allows you to unfold the earth in front of you.
Planes give you the glorious earthly perspective,
But a train stretches you from sea to shining sea
That you might see all the hamlets and cow towns
The forgotten mines, the many VFW buildings,
And mix husks of cars, graffiti, and playgrounds
With hawks, antelopes, and thunderstorms.
A train gently rattles you through invisible prejudices,
Makes plain that there is no such thing as red or blue
When the fields roll on to the bright and crashing ocean.
It’s nice to travel on a train.