Station to Station

The train pulls in with no one there             to greet you

they’ve all gone the one with white hair

the blue-eyed girlfriend

with plausible hands              delicate as leaves

This is your depot your stop

you recognize the faceless windows     the broken clock

the shrill wind whistling through the banging screen

Somehow it all falls short of how you pictured it

the bar-keep     stationmaster blacksmith       priest

Gone      all gone to another town       another

station       the watchman’s dog the butcher’s cat       both packed

away      As darkness overrides

the day you slowly walk the town and wander

in among forgotten alleys black with soot          with cartons stacked

like leaning townsfolkthin and gray          Tomorrow

you will jump the tracks and catch the morning milk train back

to back with city workers     fancied for your breakfast chatter        famous

for your family news