sharlan

Jag jagade en viss sonett, men hittade istället den här skönheten. Läs den ni också.


Travel

The railroad track is miles away,
And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn't a train goes by all day
But I hear its whistle shrieking.

All night there isn't a train goes by
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming
But I see its cinders red on the sky,
And I hear its engine steaming.

My hearts is warm with friends I make,
And better friends I'll not be knowing;
Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take
No matter where it's going.

-Edna St. Vincent Millay