The Railway Lines

Endless metal runs parallel fastened
firmly with great slabs of wood curiously
tied together with bolts of heavy steel

folding rituals predict surface corruption
and wrought tidal drift reflections on the sides
of these sacred towers there is no warning as

the air moves with terrible density
it rushes in to collect their harvest
a field of passengers waving in the wind

across pastures their stirling flight
nary stops for a passing bird the lines below
vibrate as the armoured beast surges overhead

we are bereft of vision and no longer do words
hold value for they hang in the thickened air
and they remain unheard like the falling leaf