Thursday, May 28, 2015


(n., phon. de’ po)

This depot was a nondescript
almost decrepit affair
of wood and shingles
and dingy windows,
as uninviting as any structure
you could devise,
like a State Penitentiary
in miniature,
and yet,

and yet,
I entered this place
as if falling into a Black Hole,
that would transport me
to Worlds unknown
to a new Universe,
unafraid and unaware
the allure of the new
beckoned me,
I craved adventure and romance,

o’ depot, deliver me
from my dreary life,
of no-where,
to a new place to dwell,
that would give me:

Wisdom and Wonderment and Rainbows.

Or so I thought . . .


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