Station Cats reggae

The leaves are still

the sun burns

is this the same place

where we once lived?

Let me see it again

if there's anything left of tomorrow

Feet go alone

attached to the body

walking

through the seasons of time

towards a bus station

that leads to commuter rail

get on, get on, voices say

There are places

that always lack

a station

Others that have three

and distant places where

the passage of years doesn't translate as a station.

The selfie of our memories is still

the sun burns

Is this the place

we once lived

and it's expected to rain

even if everything sinks.

We can go further

get on, get on at Chinese prices

today, because tomorrow

we don't know, voices say

in the stations,

of electric buses.