I talk at the speed of trees
that pass you
on a train journey.
Hundreds of thoughts
planted
tall,
loud,
incessant.
I don't expect you listen to me,
I don't expect you to notice,
but then you pick out
one leaf
from the twenty-eigth branch
of the twelfth tree
and ask me why
it's painted a deep scarlet.
And there's n o t h i n g
that stops me from turning that hue too.
"To Stop Train, Pull Chain"