by The Cowl Editor on November 15, 2019
Poetry
by Elizabeth McGinn ’21
Flashes whirling past, face pressed against the glass,
eyes adjust to a moving landscape from a train.
A glimpse at strange moments as we pass,
waving adieu to the lonely buildings that remain.
Littered with flecks of dust and drops of rain,
the plexiglass portal offers rare sights
to me, the voyeur: industrial sites
and crowded subway lines, a city block
of crumbling tenements, a vacant landfill,
a seaport; fishermen socializing on the dock,
coat-cloaked city dwellers fighting fall chill,
and a dilapidated, olden windmill.
Losing track of time watching the mundane,
spying the lives that aren’t mine on a train.
