The clatter
Of a distant train
A child ran
To the window pane
Seen moving slowly
Through the dusk
Across the common
Like a ghost
Carriage lights
With half pulled blinds
Burned it's passing
In his mind
Carriages full
Of unknown souls
Clanking on
To unknown goals
Passing slowly
Into time
Pulled by a train
On iron lines
Moving slowly
Through the dusk
That train would now
Have turned to dust
To where it went
The child knew not
Yet he knew it passed
From out his world
Perceived as it was
From his window sill
It disappeared
Along the line
To where?
To somewhere else in time?
The magic is
That he holds it still
That ancient train
With people filled
It clatters onward
Through his dusk
Any time that he thinks it must
He makes it journey
Time after time
Across the common
Along the line
It's carriages bright
With people filled
Trapped by the mind
Of a child until
He forgets
His window sill
Egal Bohen
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/his-window-sill/
