Found In A Bag

I was standing at the city rail,

Where I found a poem in a bag,

It was wriggling on platform fifteen,

No ticket or I.D. tag.

Opening the bag as I lifted it up,

The poem jumped out on my knee,

It sat for a while, so I gave it embrace,

And it whispered, “I yearn to be free”.

I set it down softly on the Moonee Ponds line

And it travelled North on the rail

It travelled away, never heard of again

Save for a note in the mail.