He gets on the empty train
With a guitar case slung on his back
Sits facing me, face gazing out of the window
Azure eyes reflecting the sky and hidden dreams
As the train starts to move, so does his music
He takes the guitar and strums a mellow tune
And suddenly he changes his music with a flick
The mellow tune changes into a rich and pompous one
For a long time he did play
His rhythm matching the trains,
The guitar's music turning softer
With the sun's light repeating the same.
The chiseled faced stranger got down on his stop
But accidentally forgot to take something
His magic music was left behind
Memories of which I relished, many years later...