Train through the Desert



Train through the desert
Soaks the plains with its whistles,
Throbbing and bursting
Against the particles of dusk,
Ending with a wail —
Prolonged like a cry from the soul;
Echoing through the spherical dimensions,
Making the sky a dome.

And your memories shatter!

You are the wind;
You are in the carriages,
As they whistle past in the darkening sunset.

The rocks glow golden and pink.
The ravens fly above.

Mountains hold their meanings —
Lying down and slumbering with a time
That stretches before you,
And long after you
Are dust…

After the train you are left with the sound
Of the forming of the clouds.



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