Sunday, February 13, 2005

Let's hope it's a good one

Full Impact
He emerges from the tall reeds to straddle the tracks that split the town, east
from west, where the sounds of an approaching freight train fill the surrounding hills--
noises like a steel mill falling from the sky.
A bottle grasped in one hand, with the other he cocks and aims for
the blinding white heart of the charge.
He lifts the bottle to his lips. It is like trying to bear the terrible weight of history skyward. He manages to get off several rounds. A whistle sounds out of the catapulting light, the undetectable bang of white, the shattered bluster of air, blood and bone born like a hair in wind.

No comments: