The train that goes the other way calls out to me,
The one with few passengers and a view of fields and trees
Away from bustling cities
And the job that requires me to stare listlessly at screens.

Should I take it today?
Should I go to the sea?
Or stand in a field somewhere?
Will I grasp that sense of fulfilment
that edges towards me then darts away?

I watch flecks of light sparkle on the river like stars;
A stream of incandescent hope

Maybe tomorrow.


© The Innocent Lyricist