dry shattered traveling eyes squinting over the illuminated numbers
and a chime,
a toll rings.
It takes me a moment to realize-
it is all in my head.
Along with the vertigo sensation of movement after 24 hours in travel transition
the bells are a remnant of travel lingering
in my senses.
Just like the Italian accent talking to me in third person in my head
and the smell of fresh tomato as if
lunch were served.
I know from experience these remnants will fade.
A day or two and the voice will be back in my head in y’alls and southern twang
and the smells only those of laundered sheets and encaustic paints….
And, the chimes I will hear-
because I will really hear them-
will be disseminated to what they are;
my train, out the back,
passing gently by as it does
calling up things that I saw
because I went out.
It calls me back home.
This is why I EncaustiCamp.