ThoughtSong Intersections

i do
feel
the sun
     the wind on my skin
 
i feel this train
moving
 
perhaps not all was lost
in the wreckage
 
but
this heat
   warms differently;
his,  not quite  as subtle
 
this breeze enlivens
 
this train is rocking, back and forth
     tho drier eyes would
     help me,
     hold on  better
 
strangely, sensing
   sensing;
 
perhaps not all was lost