Train Of Thought Poem by Matt Mooney

The girl getting on the train
Is but a memory of a moonlight gleam;
Wearing the beauty of youth, she stepped on board.

Her beau was by her side:
Looked like they were both from Bengal;
Besotted with each other,
In the middle of everyone around,
Seated, she slips her arm around him.

He had a veiled dark look-
An echo of his distant origins;
Her glad outbursts of laughter
Enlivened the empty afternoon,
Saturating the lap topping silence,
Broken only by private mobile broadcasts.

Lovers filled with the energy of their emotion,
Their magnetic need in their magnetic field
Revealed as they stand to exit again.
She looks at him as she steps closer,
All the while conversing;
Ever closer until she kisses him
Then nonchalantly withdraws,
Only to be drawn back unto him;
Kissed by him and held this time.
Contentedly she lays her head on him,
Both now the pieces of a jigsaw’s neat solution.

They were both so finely suited to each other
As if she had been grafted on to him
Secretly in the labyrinth of time;
Challenging the dreariness of the low grey sky
Belittling the billions lost in false economies.
By their looks they were not effected-
Their every move suggested
That it was to the power of love and nothing else
They had been so obviously subjected.