Watching the outside world speed by.
The gentle rocking of the train,
gentle sigh of the wind,
slows my mind, relaxes.
Patches of winking yellow motes,
deny total darkness.
Proving that life goes on,
outside this speeding coccon.
Every now and then it rests,
people join and leave.
Passing through places I will probably never visit.
Miles of country and concrete.
Occaisional unexpected delays,
a diversion from the plan,
giving a chance to pause and reflect on the route ahead,
rather like the future.

(c) 1998 30 October 1998 17:00, Fnagaton.