Last time I traveled away
I found solace in the growing night
that rushed past me as my rushing train
passed, not stopping for pictures
or bathroom breaks
or even the best views.
Through fogged winter windows
I watched the leafless trees
of Virginia go by until it was too dark
to see the little towns we slid through.
Hours later I looked
into the lights of coming cities
and was slammed by
the realization that I didn’t belong
in one, that the dreams I’d had for
so long were not founded
in reality.
And on the nearly empty train
I felt rising in me the emotions
of childhood that never quite left.
I cried for the town I’d just met
and had already
fallen in love with
as I rushed along metal tracks
farther away from it.
The train I’d allowed to take me
took me deeper into cities,
into a future in which
a city loomed likely, and I thought,
love, why is it
so easy to fall into?
(See the poem I wrote on that "last" train ride here, for context.)
I found solace in the growing night
that rushed past me as my rushing train
passed, not stopping for pictures
or bathroom breaks
or even the best views.
Through fogged winter windows
I watched the leafless trees
of Virginia go by until it was too dark
to see the little towns we slid through.
Hours later I looked
into the lights of coming cities
and was slammed by
the realization that I didn’t belong
in one, that the dreams I’d had for
so long were not founded
in reality.
And on the nearly empty train
I felt rising in me the emotions
of childhood that never quite left.
I cried for the town I’d just met
and had already
fallen in love with
as I rushed along metal tracks
farther away from it.
The train I’d allowed to take me
took me deeper into cities,
into a future in which
a city loomed likely, and I thought,
love, why is it
so easy to fall into?
(See the poem I wrote on that "last" train ride here, for context.)
