the last train

the train you were waiting
for has already come and gone.
you missed it.
the platform is empty.
your bag sits beside you.
you turn up your collar,
button your long
coat and look up the bend
of the empty rails
that disappear
into the woods.
the morning is quiet
and cold.
you stamp your feet
you look up to the white
winter sun that is hardly
a sun a all, just a pale
wafer, a reminder
of time gone by.
you could walk home
from here, but you'll
stay a little longer,
why not pretend, and wait
some more.