View from a Train
Snow hides the ground;
Fog hides the sky;
A whole white world with no horizons.
Here is the extended version of it, where I have taken the essential idea of the piece and expanded it into a proper full-length poem.
View From A Train
The snow hides the fields
as the fog hides the skies.
I race through a world
where horizons are lost.
The shapes of the trees
where the wintertime lies
are painted with diamonds,
bejewelled by the frost.
The fences that follow
each dip and each rise
tear rows of black holes
in the covering sheet,
their jagged incisions
a constant surprise,
in a landscape that, elsewhere,
is pristine and neat.
A tractor, abandoned,
throws red in my eyes;
a solitary crow
takes to flight as we pass;
and, cocooned in the carriage,
I breathe out my sighs,
held apart from the world
by a panel of glass.
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