remember when we slipped
through the silvery limbs
of Barcelona's rails
pushing each red lettered ticket
through the hungry slot,
brushing brightly lettered details
of our trip beneath our prints.
remember how the station trembled
like Fall back home,
ready to shake herself free
of crispy leaves, or
in this case- scrambling tourists.
the doors roared open
devouring our senses with the
breakfast, papers, scarves
and silence,
which surely lived before we
entered.
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