Monday, October 01, 2007

. we walked in song .

the freight train has gone
without a sound.
the abandoned, old station
sits in whispers
and hisses of the little legged
creatures who sing in present tenses

dancing flowers and nectar finders
buzz the long rusted iron lane
where the night train would come
and the whistle would sound
as the passengers waited
for the misty cloud storm

cases from places so far
from these parts riddled
the path with colourful arts
as the goodbyes held long
and the winds shshshhhhhhhhhed
a great sigh would song
its night lullaby

from out of these mists
into light of the day
from travelers gone so far, far away
a kind old remembrance that
lives on this path
where the nectar finders buzz
and the flowers now dance