in the station of the dust train

gazed into the face
close to the railway platform of the dust train
dull, pitch darked, with the floating smile
until the silent softly ambushed
when the time gone to over
as if without remembering

in the last time, when the trains passed one by one
she quiet
bite her finger and sometime mumbling
between the nervous and anxious
dejected, annoying by calm too
"oh dear ...", she speaking

what's a pity, she don't know
his traces was to be done

yogyakarta,
august 1997/march 1998/march 2000