Did you ever catch the pacified eye
Of a passer-by chasing railroads?
Counting hours in the carriage of common transfixture,
The 4D picture swarms us all
Like a monologue of moving space.
That this in-process part,
Our pause before and after start
With a stagnant, collective shift
Of stories –
As though we were pens ourselves,
Leaking in and out of place
On a paper track
Between then and who-knows.
Nothing soothes the silence of a vacant page
Like railway vibrations.