A couple of jets flew by this morning.
Car alarms went off.
A tree stood still.
Walked home through a graveyard.
Passed a pack of evening ghosts.
Hanging prayers from a tomb.
Asking me to gaze to the moon.
But the moon has passed.
Covered by heavy clouds.
Like your shadow that night.
Diluted by my tastebuds.
But my feet are still hurting from too much walking.
All the way from a railroad to a place called home.
Today, I missed the train again.