Say what?

The full moon is moving across the cold night air. Winter must be on it's way in.... Not a tweet from a bird nor a chirp from a bug can be heard. Only the whistle of a distant train.

I often wonder where the train is headed and what sights it is about to see....

I long to be sitting on a beach watching the waves roll in and out or Maybe on a hill top looking at the city lights or spending time with someone who cares.

The train rumbles on by to locations unknown.... I sit alone.