Wheels roll on the iron rails,
On the way home a yolky moon aril.
Linen haired boy blue eyes skin pale,
Gazed into the window my shadows fail.
No way he knew my window glowed.
His gaze, school countenance, a grown-up child,
All in the reflection of my mirror clear.
At five thirty five the train was there,
He got up and left, left nothing to declare.
