The momentum of days carries me, a wind, a river, a dream. The blur of faces, colors, the warped music as we pass...
In the beginning, there was a gleeful agitation, an excitement, the sheer thrill of the ride. Later came the motion sickness, the drunken stumbling; the earth and its undulating surface feels impossible to cross, the crumbling edges, the random crevasse.
Finally, less beguiled by fear, I am a man, at night, on a train, smiling to himself, as the lights of the the city begin to slide.
In the beginning, there was a gleeful agitation, an excitement, the sheer thrill of the ride. Later came the motion sickness, the drunken stumbling; the earth and its undulating surface feels impossible to cross, the crumbling edges, the random crevasse.
Finally, less beguiled by fear, I am a man, at night, on a train, smiling to himself, as the lights of the the city begin to slide.
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