Train

I wrote this here poem:

Concourse
of the moving, quietly rocking train
over the tracks
Through deep blue on the horizon
And the ghostly shapes of
the deciduous landscape
of the Southland
The bank of the river
appears and then recedes from view
Like long curtains of stage
scenery shuffling across
And as the city outside
moves slowly into view and
Finally comes to a stop
I have been awake and fascinated