The Station

The Station

Struggling now to breathe past the wall of air;
Cold and blist’ry, I fight to face the east.
Hope warms my veins; I see a slowing glare.
Passengers depart once steam has released.

Your face breaks through the air of warm and cold.
I’m reminded of the joy your smile brings
Your bag drops as you pause to pay a toll.
I thought you’d stay; and now you plan to leave?

You whisper sweet things against my stone ear;
You have a plan beyond this boggy plain.
I cling to you before you disappear
You smile, peel away, and re-board the train.

A lump forms in my throat; I force a smile.
I face home and walk alone that bleak mile.


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