With the grace of a train whistle,
he blew through
my station.
There was no schedule.
I never left the platform.
My dreams of flight
drifted on smoke
far, far away.
With the grace of a train whistle,
he blew through
my station.
There was no schedule.
I never left the platform.
My dreams of flight
drifted on smoke
far, far away.
The Word Rummager 
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