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Poetry Junction
I am at the station
but there won't be a train coming.
Not yet.
I am looking into the distance
searching for any movement
in any direction
wishing for a train
wanting the journey
needing a destination.
I remember the blur of motion
the thrum of sound
the rush of wind
the satisfying halt.
Even before the train comes
you can imagine getting in
finding a seat
settling down
wond...
Friday 5th March 2021 7:15 am
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