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nothing new
November 9, 2016
The sun rises
He rises
Bus
Train
Work
Lunch
Train
Bus
Home
Sleep
Head down, he walks briskly down the streets
Locked onto the façade in his hands
No new hellos on any platform
He rises
Bus
Train
The friends in his hands die
But his eyes are alive
With the fire of loss
For words
His eyes are stuck on her open mouth
No words
The train arrives and the doors open
Her beauty and the train rush down the tracks
Staring down the empty tracks
He whispers
Hello.
© Anna S., Highland Village, TX
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