On its belly at night along the bottom of the dark valley slithers the train. Villagers see its lights as they climb into bed. The river is frozen, weeds blanched with ice. A siren pierces the foreign air.
sleeper closed up
reluctantly we lock in
the cockroaches
Dozing in the bowels of this huge worm, we open our eyes for a moment to find a startled Chinese man sitting up in the bunk opposite. He’d arrived in the night and was astonished to see two Western ladies sharing his sleeper. We fall asleep to the sound of snoring.
dawn over the fields . . .
a handful of sheep
led on a string
sleeper closed up
reluctantly we lock in
the cockroaches
Dozing in the bowels of this huge worm, we open our eyes for a moment to find a startled Chinese man sitting up in the bunk opposite. He’d arrived in the night and was astonished to see two Western ladies sharing his sleeper. We fall asleep to the sound of snoring.
dawn over the fields . . .
a handful of sheep
led on a string
by Patricia Prime
Auckland, New Zealand
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