Ride Through The Room
After Rene Margritte's “Time Transfixed”
I sleep in a room where time hangs transfixed,
where things that wander there once
return. I stare at knot holes in the floor.
Through the wall a horn honks.
Out of the tunnel of the fireplace
the train of fire pulls into my room.
The smoke lays back from the rapid speed.
I draw in a large breath, and
in a puff I lift the smoke.
I clap my hands and am inside the train,
just another passenger, but I move forward
until I am in fact the engineer.
I keep the engine going strong because
the ride is long and hard.
Rachel Pryor
Grade 8, San Pasqual Union
