The Disoriented Express

Time took a smoking break,
When I got to the train station.
It stood in front of a mirror,
Combed and recombed its hair,
Took short sips from a long beer…
No hurry.
A schedule wrongly read,
And I had four hours
In a foreign station,
Hoping now I had the right day.
Would my destination
Finally flash on the big board of destinations?
Or was time and place all wrong?
Up and back I walked the halls,
Combed and recombed my hair,
Took short sips from a long beer.
I flattered time, mimicking.
I could be as slow as it was.
I walked past gates,
Looking for a night train,
Prague to Krakow,
In a language invented
That few could possibly understand.
Time finally finished its beer,
Brought the train
And found Krakow for me.