All night the trains were restless
clatter clacking east to west
beside that swollen river
ever threatening to crest,
the ebon winged cacophony
that lands here every fall
became an eerie canopy
looming dark and tall;
as lunar luminescence
lingered lightly on the lawn
the promise of precipitance
demoralized the dawn
foreshadowing a dismal,
archetypal winter day
where everything once knowable
disintegrates to gray.
Are You Reading Me?
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