poetry by j matthew waters

a sliver of hope

tied to the tracks
the rabbits never had a chance
if the train didn’t do them in
the fire certainly would
rampaging uncontrolled
throughout the wild wild west

they had family
spread throughout the valley
there was a sliver of hope
tied to the tracks
these sisters in arms
calling upon the september rain

years have passed
since the last train arrived
the next one expected
to barrel in like a fireball
wiping out everything in its path
tied to the tracks or otherwise

august two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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