The 5:22 a.m. train
into the bowels
of aluminum city
hurtles us soft creatures
of cul-de-sacs and oak trees
through a brownfield corridor,
past the blurry pocks
of yellow yards and
rusted afterthoughts.
© Nancy Botta, 2018
The 5:22 a.m. train
into the bowels
of aluminum city
hurtles us soft creatures
of cul-de-sacs and oak trees
through a brownfield corridor,
past the blurry pocks
of yellow yards and
rusted afterthoughts.
© Nancy Botta, 2018
Rusted Honey 
I really like this! 🙂 Well written!
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Fantastic!
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Love this!
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Aluminum rarely rusts. I liked the juxtaposition of the rusted afterthoughts to the metal city free of the rust of humanity (all the iron in blood makes us particularly rusty creatures)!
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I am so glad I have discovered your poetry!!! So so good!
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Simply amazing Nancy.
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Keep this good content up.
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💖
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These beautiful lines evoke such imagery. Excellent! Thanks for this piece. 🙂
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Excellent. I feel like a rusty afterthought at that time in the morning.
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Beautiful piece
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