train 79

Sitting on train 79,
bodies sway side to side,
not back and forth.
As strangers cease to be
the silence breaks into
polite breathing murmurs.
Snores and footsteps
complicate the train's rhythms.
"This car was built before
you or I was born."
So, no thermostat,
just (body) heat.

We go home to our
houses or families.
But I visit an absent lover's arms.
And now as I race towards him,
I remember my destination.
I remember why
I am a member of train 79.
And it is not to watch a private landscape slide by,
nor to read quietly, alone.
I'll be there soon.
Hoping it is where I'm meant to be.