German Train

I'm not sure how long the dusk fled passed,
Fields and farmers, and not far stations
revealed in fading grey.

A screaming, passing train
seeks that which we
only moments ago departed
and is replaced by gloom
to devour you, faint-hearted.
Hours later, and minutes,
smells and starlike towns
penetrate the darkness.
Noone wanders the open hallways
most are closed in their
private cabins,
cutrains well drawn
against the night visitor.
I place a sign of welcome
on mine
and none pass
to be attracted.

gf 90