April 16, 2016Tracks
What time is it?
Train’s coming?
No. Just lights from a rushing truck.
Gazing out my icy window:
street lamps hanging over sleeping cars
like a mother bird feeding her babies.
Bike rack is a caterpillar squirming
in the framed painting posted yellow dots
show Union to Camden two minutes late
Union to Camden eight minutes late.
The metal newspaper sign slapping in the wind
is like a heartbeat.
All the people have vanished
Rumblerumble rumblerumble rumble
Ding!
Which way? Right, left?
A flash of light
The train pockets beam on the tracks
Engine growls
Then slides away into the sleepy silence
Bus shelter light shining on people
with heavy coats, black briefcases dragging
straight faced tired heads looking at pavement
clumped
like soldiers marching
right, left, right, left.
The clip clop of shoes gets louder as they cross the tracks
and come closer
Do they see me?
Tied oxfords
weathered woolen hats
striped scarves
leather gloves
Trying to find the right match like a memory game.
Strapped backpack
long jacket
glasses
a smile
Daddy.
from 2016 RYPA