Saturday, April 18, 2015


Maybe my train doesn't make much noise but I know it's moving
at its strange pace where years go by quicker than days

I'm trying not to lose count of the faces that board then move on to another division.
Already many have reduced to a memory
a half-remembered name
an obscure vision.

And I'm trying hard to bear in mind 
that this train will be leading me somewhere
its time and place defined.

That's a sensitive topic around here
Let's not think about that now, some passengers say, 
with a slightly reddened ear.

Others smile nervously; 
a few think for a while then get back to whatever they were doing 

I don't blame them. Sometimes it's easy to ignore, act clever
sit back and admire all the work I've done stuck on this train 
since as long as forever.

Repaired windows, the ceiling's stronger foundation
the seats that I've made more comfortable
none of which will matter when we reach our final destination.

Say it again 
and again
and again to yourself, 
this alone is your saving grace-
not to get too caught up in the journey
to remember the resting-place.

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