a ghost train dimly lit
reflects our headlights
disembark
walk the tracks
cut back through a tunnel
to find the maw exhaling
humid underground air
and inhaling us
into silt's playground
where it crawls out from
running down the river, and after
some relaxing gleefully climbs
the walls splashes in puddles crawls
through mouseholes rolls
below narrow ceilings hanging
contemplatively from said ceiling
pendulously thickening
and drying thoughts to soft stone
in silent lifting darkness
after a night and a day of this play
we return injured crawling towards
that sideways galaxy of daylight
and on emerging it feels like
the largest cavern yet