Thread of Morning

More about Thread of Morning

The train slips past
low green beds
cupping still water,
a girl leading her ox,
egrets along for the ride,
plucking flies from the warming air.

The scene floats up now
like morning mist coiling its blue mountains,
unspooled like a forgotten thread—
even then, it brought her peace,
as the lull of the train
carried her away.