In a white room with black curtains is the station.
Black roof country,
no cold pavement,
tired starlings.
Silver horse head,
ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes.
Dawnlight smiles on you leaving my contentment.
I wait in this place where the sun
never shines.
Wait in this place where the shadows run from the sun.
You said no strings could secure you at the station.
Platform ticket,
restless diesels, goodbye windows.
I walked into such a sad time at the station.
As I walked out,
felt my own need just beginning.
I'll wait in the queue
where the trains go on by.
Thine with you
where the shadows run from themselves.