i'm there too

I hear the whistle of the train
as it crosses
the trestle, no more than a mile
or two
from where I sit.

through the woods, across a narrow
stream.
I imagine the lives
within the cars, leaning

onto the windows, cold,
mirroring the pelting
rain.
so far from home,
from loved ones.

needing rest and food,
affection
and comfort. on the rails again.

i'm there too.