January 2, 2012


Like dumping a kid
for a day at the movies,
my mother dropped me
off at the station,
first for family,
finally to ride
away on my own.
I rolled for years,
learning by heart
place names I'd been told,
never really knowing
where I was going,
only sure of what I had seen.
Through the window
I watched hidden lives unfold,
then saw my own reflection
as the sun went down.
In my sleep I still hear
the call for tickets,
always hoping
I will not awaken
before we reach
the place we are bound.