Wilbur Fisk On The Train
Wilbur Fisk On The Train And on the train, clack, and clack, sends me almost to sleep, but, I sneak awake. A jet carves sky, as a train with wings, we spy one another, I’m sure. Out my window, weeds lean, from a push I cannot see. A steel bridge stands in the water, more of us drive its back. The... Sign in to see full entry.