THE NEW HAVEN LINE

The old train got the wheels of steel.

Strong for the ride and good for the anxious

souls as a high sun shines on miles

of warm track pointing south

when cold knocks at the door of coats,

hands without gloves and up turned collars.

Passing winds of travel circle angrily

around the corners of swaying cars,

lifting leaves, wayward dust and hats

from uncombed hair.

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