Four Minutes Til Seven Poem by Ted L Glines

Four Minutes Til Seven
by Ted L Glines

My shadow waits
for a train which never comes
beneath a station clock
which never ticks
longing for the touch of breeze
which never licks my non-face
in this time-frozen place
one moment beyond death
one sigh beyond breath
the station master standing there
says the train will leave at seven
to new life or hell or heaven
in only four minutes
on a clock which never ticks
here at the tracks called Styx.