The Innisfree Poetry Journal www.innisfreepoetry.org by Chris Llewellyn
Voyeur
I was launched from my dolphin mother one block from the town reservoir and two from the C&O railroad tracks. Come sundown, the Santa Fe came burning by. Through the passing glass, I watched white jacketed jinns glide on scarlet carpets, saw silver lit silhouettes of cocktail travelers, smoking honeymooners. Down the tracks past the City Limits and fraternal lodge signs, the country club winked high above the golf links. Silver security fences with climbing ivy tried to hide the El Dorados, Catalina swimsuits. From the rural route, I fished the ditch for golf balls, sold them a dollar a pail. Or sliced away the cratered surface till rubber bands boiled like nests of new-hatched garter snakes. Back when I was a dolphin daughter, waiting in ditches, walking the rails. Copyright 2006-2012 by Cook Communication |