You step off buses with broken wheels
Your camera hangs on leather straps
The depot floor reveals its steel
While night wraps round the railway maps
A brass tube catches streetlamp glow
You watch the brass telescope unwind
Beside the depot's peeling spine
Each lens a memory left behind
You focus sharp on borrowed time
The shutter sings its final rhyme
You twist the barrel slow and sweet
Old coordinates begin to show
Where travelers once crossed the street
Paint curls like letters never sent
You frame the flakes in silver light
You watch the brass telescope unwind
Beside the depot's peeling spine
Each lens a memory left behind
You focus sharp on borrowed time
The shutter sings its final rhyme
Each chip a moment that was meant
To fade before the morning white
The telescope lets out a sigh
Joints loosening in midnight air
You catch the stars through fractured sky
You watch the brass telescope unwind
Beside the depot's peeling spine
Each lens a memory left behind
You focus sharp on borrowed time
The shutter sings its final rhyme
No ticket needed no fare
Your shutter clicks the moment keeps
The brass unwinds to copper thread
You pocket negatives then sleep
The depot dreams in rust and red
Three-quarter time rocks platform boards
Your finger finds the aperture ring
History folds into single chords
You're not leaving you're remembering
The viewfinder holds what words won't say
Dawn bleeds through cracked window panes
The telescope rests on splintered wood
You pack your rolls of exposed frames
One last glance at where you stood
The brass stays pointed at the sky
You watch the brass telescope unwind
Beside the depot's peeling spine
Each lens a memory left behind
You focus sharp on borrowed time
The shutter sings its final rhyme
Negative develops in your hand
The depot fades you understand
Brass unwound in morning light
