Train

In the train there is love ,friendship, eating
And piling of bodies,in movement and wind
The wind catching you off guard, with tales
You will squirm in your deep stomach about.

Down below there is somewhere green lust
For passing by things, birds on phone wires
A gentle breeze, that ruffles a train kids' hair
As it presses its face against the iron bars
Smelling deep iron on its face, its old paint.

In train new married wife touches chords
Steeped in smells of flowers, smell of face
As eyes speak flowers, new friendship, faith.
It is also live mother , eyes of love and rain
A noisy train, wind, from sky of childhood.

In the upper berth is overhanging lower sky
A brown dome, hanging above with no stars
But eyes, in body that cannot change sides,
Body that sleeps in dreams, of running train
With no brown earth below but an empty air
And some bodies deeply drowned in dreams.

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