A Random Acts of Journaling Submission: October, 2002

Prompt: Taking the last train home



The Last Train Home

three a.m. again

the window beside me is wet
damp against my face
and cool
but not just from the moist air
of an outside which speeds past
too fast
so fast I am unable to read the graffiti
people’s words
someone’s words
and I want so much to be able to touch them
to open for them to touch me



copyright 2002, Howl-at-the-Moon Words


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