There he was, waiting for another train. He was so sick of the subways. Always late. Dirty. Noisy. Flying maniac kids dancing for dollars. Bad musicians. Endless panhandlers. And the so-called ... [+]
window seat
facing forward
racing westward on rails;
every twist a next vista
the last passed pivots
sweeps past
her left shoulder
lost.
Oddly,
only as we sit still—
an hour into a restaurant meal—
where are we?
(the longest remark she can speak.)
our answer seems to appease
but did she mean:
her restlessness?
her wish to be back on the moving train?
where impression leads to impression,
where forward thrust is all?
there on the train,
she avoids
the slowing,
there on the train,
she outraces
the void.
facing forward
racing westward on rails;
every twist a next vista
the last passed pivots
sweeps past
her left shoulder
lost.
Oddly,
only as we sit still—
an hour into a restaurant meal—
where are we?
(the longest remark she can speak.)
our answer seems to appease
but did she mean:
her restlessness?
her wish to be back on the moving train?
where impression leads to impression,
where forward thrust is all?
there on the train,
she avoids
the slowing,
there on the train,
she outraces
the void.
