poetry

train window
by elena johnson

streetlamps propeller-dance bone bare trees bend backward against white sky find nothing to rest against sway arch reach for the trapeze but miss, just barely miss the tightropes, electric lines branches, fingers, grow longer each season but so, too, do cities

elena johnson is a writer, street performer, community artist and popular educator. Her articles have appeared in Alternatives Journal, and she has co-written and performed several collaborative plays. She recently completed a short novel, and is now working on two new poetry manuscripts. She divides her time between Montreal and the open road.