There was a Waxing crescent and a Virginian milky blue sky translucence
While taking my son from
his home his mom his friends and New York
And the Worlds Light was too high
So We settled for streamed ceiling fluorescence
And enjoyed the trains inner sanctum Incandescence
Strictly Ticket holder acceptance
Tangled in each other and the trees and the true Virginian dark and the southern pull to his new home
And man, the way his eyes shone
At The prospect of a moving breakfast
Shiny eggs and bacon and seemingly mountainous orange juice while trees flower laced train tracks grazing cattle and farm workers and a sky in its most royal attire: sprinkled with cumulus regalia, blew past our car and we blew past them
And when the train came to an unexpected halt in the deeply darkened woods of South Carolina
And only little strips of his tiny face showed from scattered light
And his thick black hair melded with the dark and although barely visible, swayed left then right then left then right then left then right in quick movements under the humming ventilation system
And his now dark iPad screen showed me my own face barely visible but content
I could see myself and a mother among us quietly answering our children’s silent words in smiles
Leave a Reply