Weather Apothecary

1 Minute Read Time

Photo by Thanos Pal on Unsplash

When at last
the last fires burnt

out upon the prairie,
trains could be

heard passing,
mournful as whales.

There’s no remedy to being
second-rate
, I heard

the brakeman say
as he & his red

light were pulled
forever into Missouri.

But still I waited
for you like a radio

tower, blinking
quietly in the night.

Read more from Issue 17.1.

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