lost and found on the b train in winter by Walter Bjorkman
i first heard the rumble, felt the roar, before i was born in my mother�s own cave, on her doctor�s way i first saw the white porcelain straps, felt the frayed straw seats smelled the wet drying wool before i was one year of age record snow the christmas eve three months before my birth then every month thereafter � i rode the rails in that womb while dirt-crusted plowed snowdrifts piled to