The freight trains are new, the sound of them that is, somewhere set on the horizon that never ends. Calmer, more serene, less mysterious than the sea, yet those fields still hold the fate of man in them. Should they ever stop breathing, shortly after, the sounds of our grumbling stomachs and asphyxiating children would drown the world and we would choke on our own filth.
Springfield, IL
Nov '09
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