Monday, January 28, 2013

Small Stone #28

I hear the mournful sound of a train. A call to far off places. The sound has followed me from California.

Now I know I'm home.

2 comments:

  1. Now that's funny! You wrote many a haiku about trains in CA - although normally combined with the workday woes of riding one. ;)

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    Replies
    1. Yes, the train rides to work provided much fodder for my 17-syllable-mind. That's a concern I have here — spending a lot of the time working from home.

      Still, there are huge windows on the world about me, so I suspect I'll cope. :)

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