Out of the Windows- Yours and Mine

By Asmita Vashisht

To,

The train halting at the station,

As those queer pair of eyes look upon me from your windows, whispering and wondering, guessing tales of my existence, sympathizing with my staticity, the views I miss, the winds that never blow away my dust and the rains that only soil me further.

I laugh. Grin. Sardonically.

As you whistle past, whistles from past call out, aboard me, gazing at thee in farewell.

Thou shalt not know my secrets.

-That abandoned train.

By Asmita Vashisht