The incoherent rushing of the train <br />Dulls like a drugged pain <br /> <br />Numbs <br />To an ether throbbing of inaudible drums <br /> <br />Unfolds <br />Hush within hush until the night withholds <br /> <br />Only its darkness. <br />From the deep <br />Dark a voice calls like a voice in sleep <br /> <br />Slowly a strange name in a strange tongue. <br /> <br />Among <br /> <br />The sleeping listeners a sound <br />As leaves stir faintly on the ground <br /> <br />When snow falls from a windless sky— <br />A stir A sigh<br /><br />Archibald MacLeish<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/way-station/
