March 2018
David Chorlton
DavidChorlton@centurylink.net
DavidChorlton@centurylink.net
I was born in Austria, grew up in Manchester, England, and lived for several years in Vienna before moving to Phoenix in 1978. Arizona’s landscapes and wildlife have become increasingly important to me and a significant part of my poetry. Meanwhile, I retain an appetite for reading Eugenio Montale, W. S. Merwin, Tomas Tranströmer and many other, often less celebrated, poets. http://www.davidchorlton.mysite.com
Night Trains
The trains that run all night
in the land of wolves
see with a single eye
the grasses swept flat by their passing.
They take trees by the root
and rattle their leaves;
they call to the insomniacs
drinking darkness from a teacup,
and illuminate the rain
that parts like a curtain
to let them through.
Listen: their wheels click a rosary
on the faithless earth.
Night Trains
The trains that run all night
in the land of wolves
see with a single eye
the grasses swept flat by their passing.
They take trees by the root
and rattle their leaves;
they call to the insomniacs
drinking darkness from a teacup,
and illuminate the rain
that parts like a curtain
to let them through.
Listen: their wheels click a rosary
on the faithless earth.
©2018 David Chorlton
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