Sleeping Cars

“Dawning” is a weak metaphor
describing subtlety.
No, this is a collision,
the screeching, grinding, screaming
of a train wreck
reeking of its
ruin.

One can go
for miles,
or days across the desert
absent a conductor

murdered

suffocated in the shadows
in secrecy.

Charting a course
by alibis.
Truth hurts
less than lies.
Run away train
in deft disguise.
Wished it could
be otherwise.

In hind-sight the recollection:
too fast through the small villages
the strange looks on fearful faces
the ringing bells
the wide eyes
and hands
crossed
over mouths.

But the passengers wave,
lulled by seduction
of sleeping cars
while the gaping gawkers
anticipate

the end.