Trains Different from Digestive Tracts

She knows the train is moving
It is silent and lovely, almost singing
There are different appealing people
Staggering this way and that
Untying their luggage
Looking for their lunch packs
They almost seem real to her
She wishes she could draw
So that she could sketch the moment
For future memories
For further centuries
Perhaps if she had learned art
She could preserve a species
But she knows the train is moving
And she will not have time
To learn such a hapless art
Before she reaches her destination
Until I know she can draw
I cannot see past my own miseries
These are the destinations
For all hapless fortitude
And sequences in the shadows
Between the seats of the moving train