Flee in Time

That night the train did not slow once,
Nor did we sleep or close our eyes.
But we dreamed. What we could not see

In the black past the cold glass panes
We thought on and dreamed of all night.
We strained to get a glimpse of it,

This cave of land the train slid through
Like a snake in search of a nest.
The cliffs and waves of day were gone

For those hours spent in a long glide.
When we caught the first light of dawn,
All we glimpsed was a flat, grass plain,

A bit red in the low light, green
At the roots still in shade and gold
At the stalk tips. No slopes, no trees.

We thought we were close to the end,
But then a man marched through the car
To shout we still had a day left

On the train, a day plus its night.
To ride for two days and two nights!
To not stop or reach a far coast!

This was not a state. Not the Bush,
The Veldt. This train was not the Ghan.
Things were too large, too blank, too fast.

How vast was this land that had tasks
And a place for all who dared ask?
We knew, but we did not dare ask.