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Marcia Miller-Twiford

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Of Trains and Shattered Dreams
by Marcia Miller-Twiford

Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Marcia Miller-Twiford
•  He Stands
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           >> View all 93

She leans into the damp, cloying wind, her
breath a secret omission, her disillusioned eyes
touching the gray sidewalk like silent tongues,
numb to even the wet chill of the evening.


Coat clutched at her slender throat
wading through thin yellow streetlight,
discarded cigarette packages,
brown leaves that winter refused to
wind away. Ruffled rooftop pigeons
with unblinking stares watch the charade
and the windows of shops shudder
as imaginary footsteps in pursuit attempt to reach
her, she feels her heart speed up then slow again.

She rushes on then stops and stares
into the window of their apartment beyond
the twisted ivy slowly claiming the red brick,
as he had wrapped tendrils of deception
around their life. Then, she peers into the
window of the apartment next door now seeing
the white suddenly streaked through
her chestnut hair, etched lines on her bruised face
and her battered ribs protest as she exhales
breath too long held. The shelter in one direction,
the train to who knows where in the other.

Fierce determination of never again
flashes in her eyes as she hears
footsteps gaining behind her . . .
but he's not there. It’s her fear she hears
haunting, day and night, ever haunting.

With the haste of survival,
adreniline coursing through her,
she picks up her forgotten dreams
anxious to answer the welcoming call
of the train's whistle knowing she will board,
seeking safety’s freedom in the unfamiliar anywhere.

© Marcia Miller-Twiford  


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Reviewed by Jane Noponen Perinacci 4/16/2012
OH! How I can relate!
Reviewed by pat medlin 1/7/2012
what a perfectly gripping place of 'real' for me to have started meandering through your work. your apparent talent makes your gift of words to me more special still...pmedlin
Reviewed by Paul Judges 7/20/2011
Excellent work.
Reviewed by Linda Hill 12/5/2010

Awesome portrayal of a battered woman. I wish ALL abused wives/girlfriends would GET AWAY before its too late. I've lived through that situation, Marcia. More verbal than physical, I remember the fear, I remember the put downs every day, I remember all my self esteem going out the window. I remeember the slaps in the face when ever something didn't go HIS way. When you get a min. read my poem Who Do You Think You Are.

Many blessings,
Reviewed by A Serviceable Villain 11/19/2008

What an image!! And your poem is magnificent!! WOW!!


Reviewed by Alice Donatelli 9/17/2008
oh I love this poem so much. as I was reading it I felt like it was me. maybe because i lived this poem at one time. very well written. love Alice

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