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Union Station, shops and stores,

Peregrination ‘cross marbled floors,

Cathedralled ceilings enclose a space –

A snapshot upon an urban face.

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Alien faces from faraway places,

All strangers in a stranger yet land.

A man shuffles past in slow, short paces

And speaks with gesticulate hand.

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He asks for a dollar as I move away,

‘Hope to return the favor some day.’

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Union Station serves a great nation

Where the hungry all seem to be fed;

And the Opossum no longer plays dead.

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©Marvin Loyd Welborn 2011

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