Author Charles Reznikoff About the railway station as the taxicabs leave, the smoke from their exhaust pipes is murky blue ā stinking flowers, budding, unfolding, over the ruts in the snow. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments