Voyant

Gerard Flynn


the morning was made of mist
and some were making their way
to work
and a freight train near the railyard was going
east or west
i only heard its horn
and no doubt
lips were wet
like windows in their foggy dew
and clouds could not be seen
grey covered the sky in its loom
and inside
there was no room
for noise
except when i moved
and thought
of you
out there
somewhere in
your room
getting dressed