#WritcoPoemPrompt23
At the end of the tunnel,
There's always a light,
Sometimes soft, at times bright...
lilting in the night.
Around the frosty bend
breaks the tired, almost wizened
crankshaft on the train so likened
To an insect, emerging
perhaps caterpillar splurging
on the new sight saught
by those who have here tickets bought and baggage brought

in unison we all sieze the draft
all together, as also with...