Poem: Train Ride

Wanda Waterman

Train Ride

On a train

Late at night

It is impossible to see outside, you know

Because of the reflections in the glass.

One thing I can think of

Is to be dark yourself,

No moving pictures to confound the view.

But how to be dark?

How to

Meet darkness with darkness?

The alternative is to disembark

And walk your homeward miles

At one with the gorgeous terror.

~First published in Pottersfield Portfolio 1982

Leave a comment