my train arrives in the dark and I wait:
bag, trolley and tired
I sit on a bench at Deerfield Beach Tri Rail. Wait
passengers arrive, board, sit on benches then
a man approaches the train:
“Good evening ma’am” says he on the platform as others pass by,
nod, a word to me and load into their trains.
Mystery flows into my blood
such unfamiliar customs in my country.
Would a stranger greet me at night
on the other side of the world?
Bag, trolley and tired he would speak to his brother
stick to his wits
and gaze only into the horizon.
alone dark at night