Ice cream scoop clouds melt in a sea salt sky,
Twilight glimmers through the thick forest
While the shadows of mountains cradle me.
Why am I leaving here?
The stars get sleepy, kept up by streetlights.
And these light bulbs may reveal what goes on here
But they don't reach the other side of the tracks.
Why do I go there?
Clouds of mosquitos and moths hover round
Red lights. In shadows, kids play cops and robbers.
Now I hear my greyhound brake:
This is my stop.
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