Dorin Popa writes

MY LIFE
 
my life is a long string of rooms
that suddenly will not communicate
with one another
my life – a clock
once wound
by a deskmate
my life – a train which crawls along,
no turning back,
on the same old rail …
my life – a bridegroom’s suit,
torn in the waiting rooms
………………………………………………..
my life – an unending attempt
to retrieve
what I have never possessed
this paralysing
taste
of ashes – my life
 
 Stormy Night at the Train Station -- Jeff Rowland