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AFTER LOCKDOWN by Trudy Stern

We started hearing trains again—
wheels on iron.
Dreams of going far
rocking in this body.

I can hear them still—
they carry me into sleep
into day, into gardens
into work—
little winds
into my letters to you.

They carry stuff that built
the town, poisons from afar—
from mines in Bolivia and Tibet
build shiny finished trucks
and cars, blowing
through the neighborhood.

Horns wailing sad all day
told me trains were running again
like blue veins
through the arms of the city.

About the Poet

Trudy Stern photo by David Moog
Trudy Stern was born and raised in Buffalo, NY. Author, artist, registered nurse practitioner, tea house owner, and creative cook, she has never permitted herself to be pinned down to one profession at a time.

She is a contributor to numerous anthologies and poetry journals, and is the author of the chapbooks Taurus in Lake Erie (Saddle Road Press, 2013), Ghost Dreams (Local Color Press, 2013) and Tea Leaves (Local Color Editions).

This poem appears in her new full-length collection Warrior Soliloquies published by Two Fine Crows Books. Since 2012, Trudy has been chairperson of the Annual Buffalo Cherry Blossom Festival.

Photo credit: David Moog

The Poem of the Week feature is curated by literary legacy awardee R.D. Pohl.