Thousands of feet

pass through a railway station

in its life

it comes alive

filled with hurried action

then falls asleep

as the wee hours arrive

when everyone has gone home

exhausted tired.

Day after day

it is the focus of attention

people collecting tickets

heading in so many

different directions,

some to work

others who knows where

others anxious

as they await a trains arrival.

Yet when all its grace and favor

fall aside

when the last train has gone

no more till morning

has arrived,

it plays its own

imagined game

in its silence

you can imagine all its history

being replayed.

The years back when

steam ruled as king

when style in dress

was so bespoken,

when porters existed

amid a certain charm

the station has seen it all

what will come

as well as

what has gone.