My fingers feel worn woodgrain
I grip the edge of the seat
Crowds mill about
People laughing
People talking
Red lipstick colored conversations
Rough wool coated shoulders
And fashionable shoes
Click by
The station is drafty and cold
Smelling of diesel smoke
I scoot my suitcase
Under the bench
Someone might steal it
Yeah, right
It’s old and threadbare
And filled with underwear
And socks
Outside, the big engine rumbles
Waiting for the clock
Like a black bull pawing
Before the charge
They tell me it’s warm inside
And brightly lit
But it reminds me of a big snake
You know the one
The deceiver
People are lining up to go
The big doors open wide
Bags rise from the plank floor
The hugging and crying
Is over now
The line moves quickly
The station regurgitates
Spraying the long train
With travelers
The muscles in my legs tighten up
I lean forward as if to rise
With full intent
But the rumbling rises instead
Again I’ve missed the “All aboard!”
The train starts slowly
Lighted windows slide past
I relax and lean back
To wait
