Meeting You - Poem by Kathleen Griffin
There is always a station and a clock
that slips our time away on silver rails.
Over your shoulder I see it come,
that dragon's-breath of steam; I hear
its clacking claws along the steel
and know you're no St. George,
nor I Andromeda. Time
will leave me here alone,
chained to a stony platform,
and bear you away upon its back.
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