Poetry by David Goad
There was a time
I took the train to see you in the outskirts of the city,
And from the gray
Disjointed sprawl of life,
You formed somewhere just beyond the line –
Past black and white
Nooks and crannies
Framed in trash along the tracks –
In the world’s singular course,
there comes the hammers, the ties,
The earth piercing nails
Laid by dead hands of men
Whose sweat formed the communion
Of your light
As you waited
Under the crooked streetlamp.
David Goad is an attorney who currently lives in Washington DC. He resides with his lovely partner and little puppy, Pennie. When not working, David enjoys writing poetry that touches on the nature of memory and the human experience in the modern world.
