The Train

On the edge of the breeze of a warm summer's night
Floats the whistle of a train passing by
Motionless, I sit on my windowsill
As a tear meets the corner of my eye
Such happiness as this can be found nowhere else
I swoon in the moon's easy gleam
Childhood memories of the train and the breeze
I revisit each night in a dream

Back to the Table of Contents!
Back to the Main Page!
Make your own free website on