Loss is a four-letter word
So is hope (and love and shit)
Where am I going with this?
I was looking at a man sipping tea
It’s poetic, my life flashed past my eyes.
A slow but steady train
(Not really going against the grain)
Leaving off passengers
One
By
One.
Some of them waited for the stops
A few pulled the chain
Abrupt in their leave.
I think some of them are still on board.
Where am I going with them, and
Why are they going with me?
I must come home before dark
Before the lake spills over and the bridge crumbles
into stones
(The roads are never safe, anywhere, you know)
The man sips his tea
Maybe he’s thinking of his daughter back home
Who must have a train of her own.
Does she wander like me?
Does she say, life is a four-letter word
So she never has to talk about it?
I keep looking as he takes another sip.