A Way Station
Author: Runping Chen
Here arrived the strange way station
And the train was like a long snake,
Leaning on the small platform. The dawn was at the scene
While I was silently standing on the strange place,
Just as a lonely star on the night screen.
The wind from the platform
Drove me away into the waiting hall.
The poor building fled away from the night darkness
With the half-waking lights, its winking eyes
Which looked at the old clock on the south wall.
The night was bantering
The travellers’ drowsiness laid on the benches.
The leaving people’s heartbeats hurried the clock pendulum
While the staying ones having been snoring
But me seated on the bench and shivering
Several stars stitched to the roaring train
And flew away
As if it cut through the sky screen
From whose rupture the noisy was gushing—
Washing faces; giving a lift; serving you dinner or breakfast noodles.
I struggled to keep up my spirit
Just like the morning star in the east sky
Nervously peeping around
At a few lumps of burning clouds on the grey screen
When the stories at the way station were again on show in sunshine.
Copyright © Runping Chen | Year Posted 2017
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