The Train - Poem by Thom Theisland
I took the train as evening fell to night,
driving into the bright sun spots of morning light
that broke the focus of street lamps and neon signs.
In my eyes I saw a thousand particles filtered through glass,
colors that rang out in the silver cutlery
grasped by the hands of track side diners.
They had their meals in the city's lucid morning,
consuming the last of a scant moment
unnoticed to anyone.
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