Poetry
dodeskaden.
sonnet.
Published in
Mar 22, 2023
the rough rotations of corroded wheels
and jostled shunting jumps from rail to rail
combine cacophonously to assail
the inner ear, a rumbling we can feel
within our bones; these swaying clanks and squeals,
though turbulent, anaesthetize - i fail
to see, somnolent, what we’re passing, sail
unmoved by what the windows might reveal.
invigorating motion, long enjoyed,
becomes accustomed, lulling, static rush;
and constant travel seems like standing still -
as earth’s immense rotations through the void
are noticeable only in the flush
of dusk or dawn, the flame behind the hills.
