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Postman Cheval

Rating: 2.8
We are the birds always charmed by you from the top of these belvederes
And that each night form a blossoming branch between your shoulders and the arms of your well beloved wheelbarrow
Which we tear out swifter than sparks at your wrist
We are the sighs of the glass statue that raises itself on its elbow when man sleeps
And shining holes appear in his bed
Holes through which stags with coral antlers can be seen in a glade
And naked women at the bottom of a mine
You remembered then you got up you got out of the train
Without glancing at the locomotive attacked by immense barometric roots
Complaining about its murdered boilers in the virgin forest
Its funnels smoking jacinths and moulting blue snakes
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COMMENTS
Buford B Buford 24 February 2021
I just don't know.................
0 0 Reply
Bill Mahoney 15 February 2018
Wonderful description of themes in dreams.
1 0 Reply
Dutendra Chamling 12 November 2015
This poem has really wonderful imagery.
1 0 Reply

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