r i g h t  h a n d  p o i n t i n g

 short poetry  short fiction   short...uh..art
 

 

     
  Brianne Killoran
Shudder

o


I used to want memory

to run through my life
like the straight, steel tracks
of a railway, memories gleaming
clearly under fallen moonlight

until the days came
when memories spoke out
at night, rattling me out of sleep, calling
through the bedroom curtains
like the maddening shrill
whistle of a train.
 

 

 
 
 

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