And let the other cars go by,

And look, and look.

I never seem to get enough.

[Pg 34]

[Pg 34]

 From a Train Window

Once, before dawn,

In the Mohawk valley,

Dots of light flashed

And floated off

Into the blackness,

Like sparks of flame

Blasted from the engine.

Then more and more,

Mile after mile,

Almost never ending—

Millions of fire-flies,

Like tiny torches,

Dancing over swamp lands

In the night air.

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