Night train

Like a long sentence slipping off sluggish
The train whistled through the mist,
And smell of coca piping warmth
Came and sat on lips,

The window glass had gathered
Dewy existence lucid,
And songs and verses
Played through ribs,

The swinging motion
Had caught a rhythm
By then, the rattling
Sound made a poem,

And the world it seemed
Had gone to sleep.

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