The New Year Train

We're waiting at the platform in the New Railway Station
There the train comes and no destination?
And the banner shows it's a Youth Train!
I checked our tattered season-tickets
Old age's there and faded.
I was so sad when she asked;
'Darling, we could hide in the Goods compartment.'

*I turn but do not extricate myself, Confused, a past-reading, another but with darkness yet.-Walt Whitman

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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