Breath

Not a one-time

Shot

Into the lungs of Adam

But an inhale

Exhale

Suspending atoms

As if you were on your back

Keeping afloat

A wisp of universe

A feather of

Existence

If you held it in for

Just a beat

All would return to

Dust

They Still Build Trains

In a world of jets and

Electric cars

Satellites

And deep space probes

To slap out a rhythm

On rails as old as

Great grandfathers

The world will move on

Inevitably

When the only light on the dusty

Rolling mill

Comes streaming through smoky windows

Who will mourn the loss of such a

Glorious metaphor?