Factory

The train moves past the factory
Blue brickwork and dreams
We are sent on a dusky wild scent
Framed like blocks
Composed like a book
Front cover
Middle
End
Turning pages
Sent on a mission
Her eyes move gently
Her hands clasp the paper
Turning pages
Building dreams
The train moves past the factory
We watch and wait
Hope for a whistle and steam
A presence and hope.