Skyscrapers replaced by mountains,
the rolling hills and lush greens
of Pennsylvania farmland.
I look at the trees,
I look at the sky.
My mind forms shapes
out of the water vapor being
held captive with
blue chains.
The wide mouthed river:
A bridge for teeth,
rails for braces
(I lean into their unforgiving unsteadiness).
Two full-belly huffs
make our presence known.
The brakes start to hiss
like snakes in the grass.
Every stop inching closer
towards familiarity.