II
Beneath glass and steel
in the darkness between trains
where a few lamps float
glowing with silence
a porter wheels his empty cart
along a platform too straight ever to end
whistling as he surveys
the emptiness around him
a tune with wings
that seeks the exit
but only flies against the roof
whose intricate designs
are built to resist
the force of any song.
III
A voice and its echo
travel through the arches
counting down the seconds
until embraces break apart
and the bolts that hold
melancholy’s architecture
together rain down
on departing trains.