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Writer's pictureGurdit

Rail

I sit by the window,

Unaware of the memories I’m about to make.

With the coolness in the air,

And the lushness of the trees,

Little pink flowers blooming,

Swinging in the wind,

The black drongo flying in the sky,

The little kid waving us goodbye,

The steady conversations,

And the empty stations,

A nap once,

Many smiles later,

Arriving to the destination,

Wondering how further does the rail go?

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