Silent Sewing Train

A silent sewing train stitches in a straight line,
riding the hem of the horizon south to a station somewhere.

The sky is kind this morning, fresh and lapping clouds on the shoreline blue behind,
it carries on continuously from 8 to 8 without pause nor care.

The double bed low to the ground-
for aerodynamic sleeping I guess-
glides under the window and with propped up shoulders I can watch
nature's hand alter the seams and stitch up man-made wounds
and failed gentlemen's dreams.