northbound and plucky
northbound and plucky
clickity-clack
as it heaves me to-and-fro
tossed upon a tar-black sea
a line of light parting sky and earth
slipping between that crack
into the bombardment of frost heaves
buckling and churning
over a stark landscape of fallow fields
barbed wire and fence posts
catching the last of the light
the grain of my hands pocked
with blisters and slivers -
where the glove stops and my hand starts
is becoming more of a blur
these days
a tangle of rusty wire
ball-peen hammer
hog ring pliers and a pry-bar
rattle as I weave over concrete
each blast as a tire hits a heave
is a rifle crack
a long shadow over white
country music
torch ’n twang
competes with static
the rhythmic incessant hoar frost
mingling with a yellow hole in the sky
never above nor below
a soft white disk that pulls me along
like the bouncing ball on b/w oldies
I grew up on
my shoulder makes contact
intermittently as I dodge black ice
slits narrowed in focus on white stitches
black and white and black and solid yellow
as calming as a heartbeat
as temperate as the curl of a wave
a sea of wheat or oats or sodden black hay
or the slip-n-slide of an ice highway
lulling my disparate heart
fingers twisting as cab spins
shoulder contact on roof and steering wheel
delivering a glancing blow
topsy-turvy I go
wipers laying waste to Patsy Cline
as washer fluid spreads across
then through the windshield
sweet and stinging
flinging glass splinters through blisters
held up in surprise
my ass sliding across the bench
briefly noticing the ball-peen
shooting past my ear
work gloves doing a dance
sashaying out the window
and then white-out
an elk stands erect
his rack snagging cottonbatten
everything bathed in shadow blue
except the line of trees
black and jagged and upside down
hanging in my seatbelt
I wonder why I ever gave in
to the lonesome chant of a train whistle
northbound and plucky
electric tape and pry bar ruining
my best boots
entombing my left hand
straightening out the new bend
a leg just shouldn’t have
standing in the snow
in the space between
raindrops and the faint scent of the sea
?Trish Shields