Shotguns, Whirlwinds, Freight Trains

Is there enough room
on that painted horse
for shotguns
whirlwinds
and freight trains?
Is there enough room
in a space that
a heart used to be
before being dropped
from high places?
Is there room
in this place
of desert air
streaming across oceans
for something that cannot
be contained?

In this city of sorrow,
leaves falling,
flittering to the ground
unfettered and forgotten?
Is there enough room
for shotguns,
whirlwinds,
and freight trains
on a painted horse’s back
streaming light and laughter
across a dark
daylight sky?
Wide open spaces
cannot contain
a shotgun.
a whirlwind,
or a red freight train
but neither can a mother
whose bruised and cracked heart
is reforming
once again.
They must be allowed
their own hearts
filled with love
to soothe the small hurts
with gunpowder,
air, overpowering velocity
of movement forcing them forward
that which they cannot contain
but heal.

11/19/02