Feral Trains
grandmother dreams of a pupil of light something
small enough to prophesize loss dreams of pockmarks
on the surface of a pond in a faint rain & since her body
is alluvial & since her body is a gathering
she imagines that the long throat of the decades sings
in plosives of forgetfulness as though waking in a dark room
at night is a slow dance & the trains in the distance
seem loosed upon the earth with their ghostly blossomings
& grandmother imagines sitting with her grandchildren on an imaginary
back porch & watching each moon floating amid the dark
congealing river & she remembers once dreaming
that a moon-flower pulsed atop the watery grave
& when she plucked it from the sky & held it close
to her body it pressed itself against her chest to suckle
