232

  A voice spoke : I will carry you
From the dark. Evening has come.
   It is not good to sleep so long.

I opened my eyes and saw that
Night had fallen upon the carriage.
They had turned on the lights :
A soft glow from behind acetate.
Streetlamps swept their rays over
The interior walls, over the faces
Of newly embarked passengers.
A string of saliva connected the
Lapel of my jacket to my lower lip,
And below the lip a crust where
Some had dried. I wiped it away,
Gently. I could smell sleep in my
Hair, and feel my own breathing,
Soft and heavy, and the clatter
Of the train passing over the earth
Was like a meditation. I looked
About me, and then out into the
Dark beyond the window. Forms

Of houses and their dim curtains

Rose from the pools of streetlight.
A prodigy of the train's interior 
Was borne out into the night. Our
Pale images hung in the dark like 
Ghosts. I thought about my dream.