On a train
On a train
slowly going along by a bay,
large and deep with mountains
on guard in the blue distance. The wheels
clack and clack and otherwise
it is quiet. The sun is setting.
Colors change on the water and slowly dim.
The stars arrive with their secrets,
no moon steals their brilliance
and the clack clack is a soft
percussive track backing up
the singing of the stars.
The train whistle sounds then,
one time, long and slow.
I turn the page of the book
I am not reading
On a Train by Kyla Houbolt | Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
$20.00Price
