Poetry Cafe:Write and You're Not Wrong

[InklingElf]

I have an urge to ride into the mountains after that poem

Here's a shortie:

This train
its wheels ride on a turbulent haze

This rust
clings onto iron
the wind blows but it never lets go

These feet
running
pattering
upon the sun-warmed asphalt

This man
who paces on
in the street ahead
determined to win the race
against the wind-rustled leaves

Trudging on
from one day to the next
Into one moment
And out the other

Finite victories echo
But no music is heard