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Jan 2019
On somber winds,

Flow's a distant moan.

The train yard rumbles,

And the engines grown.

I hear the workers call.

A Voice bellowed tone.

The words crisp.

Rings All aboard.

Steel clash!

Rails creak!

A symphony strong!

The engines reap!

The trains depart.

Follow winds decree.

The time has come.

For me to drift to sleep.
Sounds before the night
Written by
lowkeymorns
365
   Fawn and PoetryJournal
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