Jennifer Armtrong 4/20/18 Jennifer Armtrong 4/20/18

Train Windows

This is one of the "writes" from my writing group. I plan to make a little book of it with watercolor pictures at some point!

Train Windows

I’ve seen them from train windows

that sudden flicker of shadow over glass

your own face wavering and losing form

for a moment, a fraction of a moment

it’s that quick

I’ve seen them from train windows

never from a car or a bus

clunky conveyances compared

to a train

and planes fly to high

I’ve seen them from train windows

but never when I’m looking

they know when you’re ready for them

and stay away

surprise is the whole point

Surprise, with that intake of breath

and your face dissolving in the glass

and you are in the train

and outside the train

you are the train

and the clack of the tracks

your bones shifting

and the squeal of the wheels

your definitions peeling away

And you’ve never been more here

Then they’re gone

and all you can say is

I’ve seen them from train windows

Jennifer Armtrong 11/4/15 Jennifer Armtrong 11/4/15

A Poem for Peggy on her 95th

Peggy Lipschutz is one of the most amazing women I know. It's been such a privilege to be able to perform with her and to watch her grow as an artist and as a human being through all these decades. I couldn't be with her as she celebrated her 95th birthday, but this is the poem I wrote for her and had my sister read at the gathering.

Always New
For Peggy

Peggy at 95
still has the whole world
in her hands

I have two memories of Peggy that
sing particularly loudly in my heart

We are sitting at Blind Faith
“When did you know?” she asks us eagerly
“Did you always know you loved women
or is this new?”
She leans across the table
“What was your first kiss like?”
Meg and I are delighted
We feel like teenagers in the first
blush and wonder of love
giggle-ly and thrilled
as Peggy’s attention
paints our passion
And we gain color and glory

I am driving with Peggy
She is quiet beside me
slumped in the passenger seat
staring out the window
“Are you alright?” I ask
“Oh yes” she responds, sitting up
“I’m watching the road end.”
I look at the Maine Coastal road
winding before us, then over at Peggy
She can clearly see, I don’t see
“Look” she says
“See how the road ends at each curve
at each rise and dip.
I wish I could paint it
but as we move toward the end
it changes
It’s always a new horizon.”

I look back at the road
Now I see how the horizon line
dances and beckons
My heart leaps up in answer
There are no words for this
I sit quiet beside Peggy
watching the road end.

Jennifer Armstrong December 2013