2:07 PM at Union Station

Landscape poem with some experimentation on enjambments.

Photo by Hugh Stevenson on Unsplash

Afternoon is boisterous and hoggish. 
Just above the smacks and clacks of dress shoes— 
shinier and squeakier than the silver-grey fox marble floor 
they shoot across as if a revolver clicked then boomed at the starting line 
of the Olympics’ track field—are suit cases and wheeled book bags 
grinding and gearing. Their…