STATIONHOUSE:
Improvisation 09 16 2009

My father died to live on the other side and that
Is where we buried him on the other side from the
Stationhouse down where excavated railroads pass
The hillside above the creek like the stationhouse
For giant sea turtles up from the sea magnet arches
Invisible tuning forks circled by moonlight on the
Sand salted by the rim that marks the ocean’s roll
To reach one tide after another to rake and sieve
The silicone shore to clean the washboard of seaweed
And calcified seashore debris from the chemistry
Of the stone bonded by the rain the wind the
Tree of light and me
It is easier to stand off shore for the longest time or
On weakening trestles that pass over the bottom
Land cemetery accommodations for our times
To stand the swift crossing of the span of the high
Speed passenger express into the slow descend
Into Stationhouses -I stand alone sometimes
Beside the trestles’ rail the Hobo’s stationhouse
–by that name we recall invested lives
Sometimes slacker’s detour from moral risks and
Stationhouses for sea captain’s routes where anchors
Lay near horizons on the bay and out near the deep
Too far to swim away I sometimes drown in
Imagination but the mysteries of the captain’s
Journeys fill us all with fear so we fall in love
And with lands of arched invisible magnets and travel
From stationhouse to stationhouse – for home sites
Stationhouses serve us all as hideaways.
Lee Mack copyright 2009. ISBN # 0615318347. Do not reproduce without permission.