DOWN BELOW

Down below

the sky weighs on the cape

sounds choke in the fog

and trains hold their breath

as they dive into town.

 

Which way did

the sunset choose

to swallow the sea

that lonely boats

deserted?

 

Down below

a solitary steeple

chimes its bells:

a hard and acid jingle

that silences the birds.

 

And all of a sudden

the evening witch

tosses iron girders

and children’s screams

into her empty cauldron.

 

Tiny lights twinkle

from a roaring aircraft

that will swap around

bits and pieces of life

over hill and mountain

 

as a barge

would collect

seaweed and cockles

for a far-away

work site.

 

Down below

the last branches

are being burnt

and the smoke joins with the fog

wiping off the delusive journey.