YELLOW STARS

Traveling with no room
a train under street lamps,
yellow stars illumine,
teeth chattering in cold wind,

scraps of stale bread
could not nourish a soul
and empty bowls only heighten
the thrist of an ending team,

and the days slow,
tomorrow a darker view,
the coming train smoke,
furnaces to match its acrid plumes,

and children, what rules they
breach? their hands stretching
beyond the cold wooden planks,
to imaginary saviors beyond their reach.
giving sky the darkest gloom.