MAGICAL TRAIN
Every night at exactly midnight
I am awakened by a reddish-yellow light
brighter than at the Maracanã stadium in Rio de Janeiro
Through the window, I see the railway tracks
and a glowing train casting its gaze in all directions
It sprays jets of light under the wheels like a dragon
When leaving, it’s just a marvelous locomotive
lit more than a Christmas tree on Ban Jelacic Square in Zagreb
On the return, it pulls wagons from children’s games
down rows of cabins with red seats and boxy modules
blocks, boxes, and small cranes
like toys for dwarves in a mythical mine
It moves slowly, gliding
like day and night on a timeline
In complete darkness
that slowness lowers a curtain of mystery
Are they aliens?
Or unknown products of Artificial Intelligence?
Lunatics, sleepwalkers?
When morning comes, I realize it’s just
a nightly work train for fine grinding of rails
a mechanical machine, not an awakened monstrous sphinx