Feb. 8, 1998

The power lines run alongside our train,
Swiftly rising, swiftly falling,
Like cresting sparrows
Or dolphins dancing before the bow.
And the rest of the world passes by
As our windows move through all the cities,
All the towns and all the golden-brown
Countryside. Past all the men, women,
All the lives that no one could imagine.
And it all passes by
As the lines run skipping alongside
All the way to the station.