His Window Sill Poem by Egal Bohen

The clatter
Of a distant train

A child ran
To the window pane

Seen moving slowly
Through the dusk

Across the common
Like a ghost

Carriage lights
With half pulled blinds

Burned it's passing
In his mind

Carriages full
Of unknown souls

Clanking on
To unknown goals

Passing slowly
Into time

Pulled by a train
On iron lines

Moving slowly
Through the dusk

That train would now
Have turned to dust

To where it went
The child knew not

Yet he knew it passed
From out his world

Perceived as it was
From his window sill

It disappeared
Along the line

To where?
To somewhere else in time?

The magic is
That he holds it still
That ancient train
With people filled

It clatters onward
Through his dusk
Any time that he thinks it must

He makes it journey
Time after time

Across the common
Along the line

It's carriages bright
With people filled

Trapped by the mind
Of a child until

He forgets
His window sill