In the Cradle of an Evening

Returning by train

only one stop in-between

at the end of a pleasant

april day

holding a gentle breeze

in the cradle of an evening

a mood weaving a

bewitching spell

brewing a consciousness

larger than the singularity

of a tired reality

as in cog and wheel

a consciousness without boundaries


behind the membrane of Time

and the rhythm of the train

its muted scream…freedom

symbolic in the landscape

notwithstanding, the obvious

…..the paradox

A straight line travelling in a circle…..


Thatcher Doran



About pmisteil

Hi, my name is Paul though I write under other names like, Thatcher and Paolo, I love literature, art and architecture their passion and drama....the contradictions. The notion of Truth-who is the person behind the mask? Or does it matter! I like long walks and longer conversations over cappuccinos in a cafe with atmosphere and the rest is a journey!
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