Running through a field of stars
past the twirling gnomes…
The Bell-whistle blows as the train rolls in,
For the field of stars; my home…
An ashen horse in Celtic glee,
And me;
a weary sack
of bones.
The ashen horse is the moon, the gnomes are the twins; Gemini ...the train rolling is the stars in their daily/nightly journey. Read Plato's Cratylus.
