It was not early in the morning,
Didn't turn off the headlights even then,
All night long, piloting the freight train,
Both crews are on the verge of strain.
...
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I liked the following stanza-When will this journey of the old mother Be over? When will the empty bag be fulfilled With the pieces of the picked-up coal?
Thanks for this touching write that reminds us me that I can never really cut myself off from others hard lives, even though I think I'm cruising along in a bubble.