(C) R.L.K.
Winter twilight.
Boxcars silhouetted against the sky.
….
The season and its weather -
something emerging from mere potentiality,
something we chance upon.
….
The frail fleeting days.
Crescent moon, cluster of stars,
so many lives in motion.
….
Don’t you wonder sometimes
where the next train’s bound?
….
Bridges. Distance.
The sound of the wind.
….
Where to go,
beneath what lonely cloud
to wander?
….
How
softly
the
snow
falls
on
the
cobblestones.
