Metra

And quiet rumble
Of slow-moving silver bullet
Ineffectual, as it were

Quiet murmurs of tired souls

[And I am missing you
Though I don’t deserve to –
Hardly know you
In truth]

Two whisper to each other
As they brush past
This one dances a little
Then shivers

Stops.
Gives a song
And returns its half-hearted effort.
We go on.