thursday morning railroad dream blues

waking sideways and OUT
up and towards the fine sand of the morning crunching
in my veins rolling down your shoulders and out some opening
forgotten for a number of years
do you remember?
when the streetlights come on
and night moves faster
we run towards something
that usually ends in a sunrise
soft songs from the east,
pitter,
patter,
slip dripping over rooftops and through velvety skin.
these songs,
like sounds,
blanket the world in crisp stillness,
an overactive underachieving smile
when the streetlights come on.
do you remember?
when your baby teeth fall out
and under your pillow
and age becomes dynamic
floating life aside
grasping at shoestrings and turning life into dreams
and non-committal statements in April,
vague comments about dreams,
seem almost tangible in the sweet spring rain.
waking again this time down
and out of bed to send two feet and two shoes down to the city below
the valleys of limestone and brick fastened with rusted metal
and green brown piles of life and refuse
where someone used to dream of making it
OUT
and i move in
to meet you halfway
somewhere where the pavement smacks of metal
and the sidewalk is losing to the tree
somewhere where the color is older than me
and the car is younger than you
there we meet
......