The glass of a carriage window,
granting views of the passing countryside,
a blurred tapestry morphing
into cold concrete and metal
of the rain-drenched cityscape.
Many hours are passed
staring through this window,
the fields, trees and rivers
blending into daydreams
of snapshots from the past
and hopes for the future,
a crystal ball looking both ways.
Then the monotone announcer
tells no one in particular
that the train will be arriving at...
And the kaleidoscope vision
dissipates.
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