Amtrak verses

I. Dawn: Waiting Room, Amtrak Station, Route 128

Balance, of a sort: the light, outside and in

the station - one, indifferent, rosy, pale.

A sense of community as travellers, frail

at the glass, gaze out at the world within.

II. View from the train, Providence, R.I.

Along the roadbed, glint of can and bottle,

green and pale blowing of newsprint: Providence.

A chalk white dome looms beyond the fence

that keeps the trash. The light is windwashed, mortal.

III. Seeing an old friend on the train

She plus her baggage only filled one seat.

I took the other. We spoke. Her small brown hands

with large blue veins, rested. . . . She understands

something I don't, and she is more complete.

IV. On arrival

End of the line. All change. I leave on board

schedules, newspapers, detritus of routine,

and take the freeway home, towards the pristine

familiar flux of love, ground of this word.

About these ads
Sponsored Content by LockerDome

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...

Loading...

Save for later

Save
Cancel

Saved ( of items)

This item has been saved to read later from any device.
Access saved items through your user name at the top of the page.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You reached the limit of 20 saved items.
Please visit following link to manage you saved items.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You have already saved this item.

View Saved Items

OK