Poetry of place

Some penumbral full moon

The train has stopped at Springwood

On its journey up the mountain

The evening growing darker

As night resumes it's residency

The cooler air a harbinger of the winter soon to come

Alluding to hibernation and perhaps some solace and restfulness in that

 

Here in this destiny I await the great wheels to turn

And move on ever forward away from this unrelenting place

Onto somewhere where I can make my bed

And be glad if the serenity I seek is what I find when I am there

 

Then out of this penumbra comes a light

Like the halo depicted about saintly heads

Portending a prophecy

That there is no end