[i]happy new year[/i]

[joel]

Too obvious a vision: the early morning railroad
behind blinks and breaklights with broad arms
down at serious rest, adorned with perpendicular chains
of automotive patience thread for idle-engine smokey pearls

December thirty-first and dawn held hostage
a sweet-and sour cliché a century past its expiration
and the first time I’ve fumbled across two trains
one behind and one before, whistles roar in opposite directions

Monotonous: this American Midwest hinge
that swings the heavy coal cars west all swollen with their burden
and waits their eastward empty return (not welcomed, but required)
Too obvious a vision: diurnal glory for the New Year

They used to talk of you like that—
like the Sun who sends forth searing rays
to announce light (and never annihilates itself)
But return empty—what resolution, what repentance is that