Evenings in trains,
When the little black twittering ghosts
Along the brims of cuttings,
Against the luminous sky,
Interrupt with their hurrying rumour every thought
Save that one is young and setting,
Headlong westering,
And there is no recapture.
Return From Business
Aldous Huxley
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Poem topics: sky, young, black, thought, save, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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