Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Mediocre poetry, part who knows of many

Lines in the sand,
Lines for the T
Heavy screeches on the tracks between here and points west:
Newton Lower Falls, Coolidge Corner.

Where are you tonight?
Do you sleep?

Do you dream of Waban, Woodland, Maverick?

I am in all of them,
Waiting for your train to arrive

looking for you

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