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 AuthorLonesome 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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