The Big Picture

Somewhere in Mississippi

From the window of a moving train you can see
only the big picture. Clouds and a wall

of green move past like a dream that vanishes
when you wake. To focus on one tree

or one house
or cloud makes your eyes cross

with a feeling of hurtling into space
from the broken safety harness of a runaway

roller coaster, causing the hours old coffee
in your stomach to rise thickly into your throat.

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