The rattling sound of the wheels, and

The black cloud of smoke whizzing out of the engine.

With a cup of coffee I sat at the window.

The wind blew hard, so hard that

It tangled all hairs on all heads.

Station after station we passed.

Even then it seemed an endless journey.

Encircled by strangers it seemed strange.

Strange for a dreamer with the thrust of reality upon young shoulders.

I found one boy with the eyes of a dreamer,

Looking out of the railed window.

I found another, a lover of music.

A gang of students who shook worries as if they were dust.

And I found one girl with a bonny smile as bright as the dawn

And eyes as black as the night.

Moments of acquaintances, followed by long awkward pauses,

Is what I relate to train journeys.

Smoky window glasses, impersonal seats, unseen fingerprints.

Whether a night or two, it always seems an endless journey.

And when my station reaches,

All the discomfort dies away.

The fingerprints do not bother me anymore, and

All the faces vanish forever.