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The Last Train
the last train to the stars
would leave on time
now a straggling wind
that blows along the line
banks shadows up against a wall
and there they terminally rise and fall
they tangle with the echoings of footsteps
breaking out of ground
and the station clockwhite face
astounded at it all
soon we'll hear the pistons race
somewhere the engine sigh
in corridors uncertain
just watching space drift by
poem
by
STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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