“You missed the train, ma’am”
I know. I saw it leave.
I walk to a bench in the shadows.
“The next train is in an hour, ma’am.”
I know. I checked the board.
I sit and watch as people walk.
I ignore the old chewing gum.
And stains from memories I’ll
Never get to see.
The bench tells me it’s been
Missing the train for centuries.
I sit and write as the watch
Hands move. The bench is cold
But so are my hands, my feet,
My bitter thoughts. I’m not angry
At the bench- but I kick around
In a moment of irritation.
“The next train is in an hour, miss.”