Jennifer Frank’s poems have surfaced slowly but steadily throughout the years in journals and anthologies such as Kalliope, Phoebe, Harwood Anthology and Looking Back to Place, online, in galleries and on the occasional city bus. She lives in Albuquerque, NM, with her husband and son.
"Trains and time are two recurring themes in my work. The main image for this poem arrived when my reading about trains online led me to an article about the history of daylight savings."
Daylight Savings I
In October, when daylight savings
occurs, trains across the country stop
dead in their tracks at 2:00 a.m., then wait
an hour to keep their published schedules.
The unsuspecting man, who has laid his sad
body across the tracks, says his final words
to the night owls and coyotes, and at last
closes his moist eyes to the stars. He can’t
believe the silence of the train as it stops
inches from his body, opens his eyes slowly
to its warmth. He waits for some reaction but gets
none. Just the scurry of a fox or some small
hungry creature unaware of the time
or what has been saved.
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