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The Train

A backward look in reparation.

The train that leaves the evening station.

Lights are dimmed in lengthening carriages.

Lives constrained by awkward marriages.

Destinations part concealed,

Neutered weapons, broken shields.

Birth and death and separation

 

It's hard this act of conscious diction

Diplomacy, avoiding friction

Dying brothers, sullen daughters

Unmapped shores beyond these waters

For now, the tears the shallow laughter

The second bottle, morning after

A culling of the truth from fiction

 

The crooked finger writes, entices

Deals the cards and roll the dice

Explains, expunges, makes it better

Credits payments to the debtors

Far beyond the horn is calling

Mist is rising, drizzle falling

The party's over. Life suffices

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Written by
j-wallace-larwood
Published
Oct 20, 2015
Lines·Words
21·111
Permission

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