The Last Train

the last train to the stars
would leave on time

now a straggling wind
that blows along the line
banks shadows up against a wall
and there they terminally rise and fall

they tangle with the echoings of footsteps
breaking out of ground
and the station clockwhite face
astounded at it all

soon we'll hear the pistons race
somewhere the engine sigh
in corridors uncertain
just watching space drift by

poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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