The slow night train
moves smoothly down
the long lean rails.
It rounds the bend,
and with a muffled moan
enters the sleeping village –
past the station,
past the stable and the blacksmith’s shop,
wheels grinding, sparks flying,
and suddenly disappears again
into the darkness of the night
with the clickety, clickety, click
of the cracks in the tracks
fading away,
fading slowly away.