The Howling Trains

I’ve missed my stop
and it just keeps going.
The absurd world
whirrs beyond
and I recognise nowhere.

I’ve fallen for tracks
and the howling only
rises and rises as we disappear.

There are flames atop;
the blossom is snowing
in small, pearled
marbles that bond
and part everywhere.

I’m calling for stacks
that rise up stonily
as the ancient towns appear.

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