Between Stops

A child behind me is crying

Someone two rows up is laughing

Across me an old man is snoring

Mouth open like he forgot to finish his sentence

And I’m in the middle

Not sure if I’m leaving or arriving

Not sure who I’m supposed to be when the train stops.

_

My seat is backward-facing

It makes it hard not to look back

And harder to look forward

The future just a fleeting reflection in the window.

-

The pale grey sky, is deciding to rain or not

My coffee is growing cold, but I won’t let go

No one knows my name here

Or the tears streaking the bathroom stall.

-

Every tunnel feels like it won’t end

Thick darkness pressing against the windows

But I know they will

And I’ll have to step off

Somewhere

With a name I’ve rehearsed out loud in the emerald kitchen I no longer own

A name that now rolls of my tongue

But still doesn’t sound like anything familiar .