Time
Stately golden rain
beyond arches of white
the screeching of a train
hissing from its plight
Backpack in hand
one foot forward
train whistles its command
chugging norward
Black-rimmed eyes
Bearing through the bars of glass
Staring down her own demise
Warped by walls of glass
Shoes snatch in the cracks of stone
backpack spilled to the ebb and flow
blurring the distance between the unknown
of the summerʼs final blow
Of a fault I know too well
dragging in the wake it comes
when will winter die, praytell?
denying the tinge of plums
Hair curling in the drafts
in a time never set
shrinking in the shafts
crying out to please the debt
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