Writes Claudia SchwarzThe wind had its work cut out todayTransporting people to their version of the universe.Pushing and pullingStrings of destinyBut they tend to be stubborn,Fighting back with the closing of a windowKeeping their minds hidden under an umbrella.Two dripping shadows, one umbrellaWaiting on platform 3 AFor a train that will never arriveA leather like suitcase cracked openOn the urine coloured groundKeeping the violated magazineWith only half its teethFrom pages one to fifteenCompany.There will be time for this tomorrow, they sayHowling at the drops of unopened memoriesPunching against the glass.We’re not ready yet.
