The symmetry of the ocean
hanging off the edge of the train tracks.
Clouds and sea fluttering in the windows
like butterfly wings pressed against the glass
but I am the one trapped,
watching the fisherman
and docks pass,
girls preparing to dive,
children skipping stones,
the old man searching the edge of the rocks with his bicycle
a dead fish maybe? sea glass?
or the reminisce of metal cans, broken bottles, and cigarette butts
like washed up shipwrecks.
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