On the train
What strange lives these women must lead
Whispering their secrets with such intensity
Mouthed at each other across the table
Using mirror reflections to check out fellow passengers
Black eyes darting everywhere
Ever vigilant
Sibilant breaths drawn
I hear the spitting and hissing of mouths drawn
Hands desperately elegantly drawing in the air
Glug glug goes the wine
The crisp crunch of potato chips
All sounds would they drown if they could
So smothered with care
Then maybe the truth dawned on me
The curse of the lost voice
Deaf and dumb perchance?
But no, it was a choice they made
posted by Anaconda | 4:33 PM
4 Comments:
that last stanza could well serve as a comment to what happened: it was done by choice.
what does that make the choosers?
me again.
As you write and comment so rarely I tried to put you into my ‘blogs I read’ column to have quick notification of any new post. There’s no url to get hold of, which means I will not be able to follow your writing.
That’s sad for me but your choice, obviously.
Hi Friko - really appreciate your comments and sorry about the URL. I am very bad with technology and not sure what you mean but will try and fix that problem! Thanks for trying. And for all your blogs!
Thanks for the comment....that may be a question to have a healthy debate on :-)
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