PostcardA Poem by Lonesome TravelerThe world is suddenly a rock song place again, against the trials of a Warsaw Monday morning. A morning for moving on, it is the same feeling of invincibility I remember sitting in a cobbled street café in Copenhagen and waiting to set upon the rails again; Federicia, Flensburg, Praha, the IC Silesia: the expectant eastbound. The mirror house of an International ticket hall in an unfamiliar railway station. © 2017 Lonesome Traveler |
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Added on September 1, 2017 Last Updated on September 1, 2017 Author
Lonesome TravelerUnited KingdomAboutYoung, British and naive going on cynical. Searching for the right path, and all that mother jazz. " Pass the parcel, sometimes that's all you can do. Take it, feel it, and pass it on. Not for me, .. more..Writing
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