The Train Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

The train,
Whistling,
Whistling and coming,
Seen far off,
Coming nearer,
The engine
Seen,
Entering
The platform,
A trail of smoke
Arising from,
Coal dust
And aprticles
Flying off,
The shrill whistle
Given
And the train,
Starign to go,
Chugging
On the rails
With stone chips,
Passing,
Whistling
And passing,
Taking to
Its recourse,
Vanishing out,
Speeding
And going,
Going
And passing
Out of sight,
The guard
Waving
A green flag,
I can hear
The sound
Still going,
Taking recourse to,
The men sitting
Into the bogies,
Faces unknown,
Sliding
And gliding by
As the images
With the bogies
Dragged, pulled
Shakingly.