Last Train From Trikala
The train stops
In a desolate town, I didn't catch the name of
On the platform
Just An old red bike
Against a wall, propped
And the golden hair of a girl
Who sits alone
Looking at these carriage windows
who is she?
I'll never know
After a minute
Her face replaced by wheat fields
Copyright © Johndinsky Official | Year Posted 2020
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