Waiting For The Train - Poem by Patti Masterman
I'll die inside this boxy, toothsome world,
Someday when frost is white with age,
When birds hop from foot to foot, against the cold,
And when other people that I don't know now, inhabit my life,
As if I were only a train, departing for some other adventure;
Whispering low the stations departure times,
The average length of time
For tons of steel to overcome gravity's inertia.
Death may seem the enemy for years, but eventually
It can no longer be avoided, like the tax collector;
Death and taxes, you can't outrun either one forever.
And some tired day, that began much like any other,
My face might turn, to fall toward the window
As if by accident; but really
I'm only seeing my train, as it finally arrives,
And when the time is right,
And the birds suddenly are quiet..
The train begins to pull away very slowly, gathering steam
Perhaps toward another adventure; or only
Towards long, lumbering sleep.
The dead never complain of their fate;
But only lie in peace, and wait..
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