A poem about Moscow
Muscovite Wake
"Robert" I say
although that's not
your name
"How quickly this beast
of a city dissolves"
Ten minutes out
of the station,
there's nothing left
smouldering factories give
to bare trees, dilapidated
people, crooked shacks.
You quip something
about people
making cities
and that nothing with
a soul actually lives in
the rattling mass we left.
"That just makes
this a cemetery"
I retort without blinking
from the cold window
a bundled boy on
a folded tin roof
stands bolt straight,
watches us pass
as the dead often do.
Comments
Darrylmdavis, a haunting, strange disconnect, dream like and sad. Interesting exchange between the two travellers. The opening line is really poignant, and sets the tone. I enjoyed your other poem published today as well, the Russian birch trees. Regards, snakeslane
Hi Darryl!
Creepy and haunting. It is though shocking how man-made dreams are built, causes lives and soon to be abandoned. A railway station like this becomes a haunted place of its own.
I like the descriptive thoughts brought about in this poetry. Awesome and interesting!
You're going to think I am crazy but the last I saw the other Martin leave the hospital room. But I hallucinate now (part of my handicap).
Cities, for all their appeal and beauty, are often surrounded by a sprawling ugliness of disbanded industry. Your poem brilliantly captures the experience of viewing the oppressive gloom from a passing train. All the votes and sharing. Thanks Darryl:-))
- Author
Thanks Snakeslane. Glad you enjoyed both of the poems :-)
- Author
Hi Coffee...thanks for stopping by. It is true that the outskirts of the city can be very haunting. There are times when I look at it and believe I am a good 50 years in the past.
- Author
Thanks to you both for stopping by ;-)
- Author
Cheers Valleypoet...well-said as always. :-)
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