The Way Home Poem by Matt Greenblatt
The Way Home
I can sense the train's approach
Its minute, dull oscillations
Its soft tenor rumble
That builds to whining brakes
And shouting conductors
Staring down the line
With coins in hand
All set to pay the ticket man
Close my eyes, step once, and board
Yes, I know the way home
No different than the way in
Same strangers, same train
For twenty minutes passed in silence
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5/2/2024 2:40:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
