there are people in my world

i hear them now

running the machinery that makes the noises in the early morning

low hum, rumble

tooting the horn

the train whistling

the conductor and watchman in the early morning light

tires swoosh the pavement in front

and even just now

a small voice close but not too

speaking in words unintelligible

there are people in my world


some days break my heart

to realize i am

not alone.