Train Trip

I don’t know where I am going

listening to the

faraway squeal of wheels on the track

counterpoint to my moonish

dreams, a blurry slur outside

my window as the train

winnows on the rails

rain blanched sunset on one side

sunrise to the east

gray streaked with pinkish

tears straight ahead

my engine misses its mother

my train sings letters in the sand.

I am on a long trip through

the center of the world

blown with cherry wind, the car

flies fast, birds overhead slowly

fall behind.

About Karen To and Fro

Everything you didn't want to know about me!
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