Trains

The flow of the wind,
rushes,
passes my hair
leaving a glimpse
of a memory.
A memory of hope
and prosperity
fresh dew left on the grass.
The place was of course,
was not in a place of prosperity,
But I-
-I saw the wonders of the world,
--While leaning into the window.
The white houses
by the side of the trains
Left me wondering
what was truly there?
and if I lived there,
how my life would be different.