Where Do We Go From Here? Poem by Shirani Rajapakse

A train goes up a train comes
down. We pass in the night. Silence
ricochets through the rooms. You

sit aimless in the corner. The leaves
on the mango tree at the far end of the
garden rustle words to you. The moon stretches

a finger to play with the curtains shivering
in the wind humming through
leaves beyond carrying stories to

you of things happening on the other side of town.
He prepares to leave for another night
of revelry with someone new. The low

growl of a car in the distance then all else is as
it was; still. Even the crickets have
stopped their gossip in shock at what

he did. But does anyone else care? Pools
of warm water break their banks
and flood, washing your face clean yet it cannot

wash away what’s inside. That stays
blocked, the key has disappeared. You
cannot break the lock. The train passes through

the empty station. The lone cat opens a sleepy eye
and yawns. The sounds move in the
night and get lost in the darkness beyond.