Poem 254

A sequel to Poem 219 … distance doing its work …

( ‘Good morning America‘ from the song City of New Orleans … I like the heart as a magic clock box – it’s also a reference to what I call a weather clock with the woman who pops out for sun and the man for rain so they can never be in the same place/weather at the same time … )

Letter From America

I can still hear you
over here
                 will you cut out that
thinking shut up the magic clock box
of your heart?
                         slap down an ocean or two
      and your thoughts of me are like
      tremors in the water
fish attempting to break the food chain
and take flight   
                            good morning
America good morning you drifting ashy
      photographs
the bad weather in your letter
was a code what you were really saying
was remember the two of us on the floor
not even bothering to listen
to the rain

when you sleep now I wake jet planes
      between us when you wake
now I sleep
                      I like it that way
but my dreams are developing dreams
narratives blowing out like bad tyres

how long 
                  before the summer comes to America
and the rain stops falling to remind you
to send letters?
soon by the look of the sky down here
cold stepping straight through
                                                        the glass