Moving now against the wind, the city is open.
There are no locks.
Everything can be fixed
because everything is broken.
The house is, too.
But in it there is still a mirror for our reflections.
You went to bed believing
That you were safe from it all.
The endless swimming pool
The skin off the back
of the Hudson.
The black crow.
The black earth.
The black, & lonely
steering wheel.
I look up
and there is the moon
And all her static whiteness,
Wondering if this is the way it was meant to be
Or just the way it happened.
Finola McDonald’s The Last Train appears in Flock 22.
N.B.: We recommend mobile viewing in landscape.
Moving now against the wind, the city is open.
There are no locks.
Everything can be fixed
because everything is broken.
The house is, too.
But in it there is still a mirror for our reflections.
You went to bed believing
That you were safe from it all.
The endless swimming pool
The skin off the back
of the Hudson.
The black crow.
The black earth.
The black, & lonely
steering wheel.
I look up
and there is the moon
And all her static whiteness,
Wondering if this is the way it was meant to be
Or just the way it happened.
Finola McDonald’s The Last Train appears in Flock 22.
Finola McDonald is and recent graduate of the Lily Lieb Port creative writing program housed within SUNY Purchase. She is a voracious coffee lover, New York native, and does best when placed in direct sunlight. More of her work can be found in Breadcrumbs Mag, Gutter Mag, Italics Mne, and forthcoming in UCity Review.