allegory of convergence
Game of chicken, cosmic brinkmanship,
we are with the horse, she gallops,
glances off gravel stone, air borne—
her head is raised, the rails ordained blinders,
and the steam locomotive bears down
what is it that compels convergence?
what this rebellion?
the plains stretch, the mottled sky,
they beckon, and nothing in her gait,
her carriage, tells us
she can be deterred
incarnate wind, unbridled whistler,
running from who knows to any where
and that Titanic of terra firma,
its radiant beacon, heat, arcs
across the inevitable horizon
is it desire for perfection in oblivion?
simulacrum of returning love?
what is her mind?
do I even know with whom I ride?
Alan Girling writes poetry mainly, sometimes fiction, non-fiction, or plays. His work has been seen in print, heard on the radio, at live readings, even viewed in shop windows. Such venues include Blynkt, Panoply, Hobart, The MacGuffin, Smokelong Quarterly, FreeFall, Galleon, Blue Skies, The Ekphrastic Review and CBC Radio among others. He is happy to have had poems win or place in four local poetry contests and to have a play produced for the Walking Fish Festival in Vancouver, B.C.
The Ekphrastic Review
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