The Last Train Poem by Susan Lacovara

As if I could stop this freight train
From barreling down the rickety tracks
Turning back the hands of time
To find we've still got time
To relax and forget the fact
That one and one
While making two
Should never equate
To just making due
When holding hands comes naturally
As you drift off to sleep
Causally
Comforted and comfortable
In your own skin
Next to his skin
As only time, alone, wears thin
But never before seeing his morning grin
To bask in, breathe in, stop awhile
Linger in
But certain as the whistle blows
The bending rails to wherever he goes
Leaves a puff of smoke in the evening sky
High, way up, so high
And before I had noticed
I hadn't noticed
There was little left but goodbye