Thank you to David Rawson of Biscuit Root Drive for publishing my poem.

https://biscuitrootdrive.com/blog-feed/page/2/

City of What-ifs, Linda Imbler

Snakes with flowing hair streaming down reptilian faces,
tresses intertwined with beads.
Bright, pretty things-
serpents, born with special talents,
using their cognitive thrumming
to translate the places of dreams
for the unobservant, trying to look beyond the stars.

Night-blind frogs
seeking innocence in reflections
within the mirrored walls
of rude shacks
with no doors to bolt.

Hobbled horses,
lonely, due to their coachman
having grown frail overnight.
He, beset by years,
now his only concerns
are what to wear to his funeral
and wondering if death
will truly be as cold as snow.

A pale man dressed in black.
His back bent,
he can be seen exiting town
to hunt under a still, thin moon
or when the break of day is at its full measure.
He travels throughout wild country,
feeling the frost of disappointment
when he must return with empty hands.

The most troubling of all
is the man with a fob pocket,
exceedingly furrowed eyebrows ,
and a face as hard as a binding knot.
Running after a moving train
with no ready answer to the question
of his destination’s location.

It won’t matter if I tell it now
what was seen then with my poet’s eye.
Just know that I wish them all well.