I write my work at the coffee table
My steaming cup, words chased and followed
The table of times searched and read
I look within my heart for my words as map
My work is complete for spectacles and viewing
The train whistles through the scene
My scarf trails the open breeze
Freedom from disappointment
Coming into view at a new station
Through trains of thought
I set down these industrious lines
A breath of fresh air at the new arrival.
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