IMG_0656The language of a lone whistle breaks

into dark, as the train puffs like a worm on fire

coursing through town, swirling and forcing

its sound into corners like a mad

overflowing river.

Dogs take no notice.  Shadows remain

under bridges.  Small fires burn, warming

hands of the empty and lost.

The earth rumbles, pulling at earth stones

in their tight birth soil.  Red brick buildings echo

the song of the trespassing engine

as it slips past sound sleepers,

heading east.


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