I pack light for this journey.
a single bag.
some cash,
a book or two.
I get coffee on the way
as I walk
to the station.
the wind is at my
back.
a light rain falls as I adjust
my collar,
my hat.
I stand at the platform
and look down
the rails.
they shine so bright, glisten
with promise
of a new life.
I listen for the wheels
of the train,
the surge of it approaching.
I hear the whistle
as it slows to a stop,
I pick up my bag,
get on, find a seat
by a window.
I don't look back.
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