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2:45 on the Train This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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Because once there
were the subway cars,
the plastic seats
whittled like wooden ships
in orange and drenched
in waves of fluorescence.

Here in the time between
waking and dreaming,
remembering and seeing
through the nostalgic
haze of dust in my
glasses.
The same plastic as the seats
covered in fingerprints,
shining like fallen stars.

Because once in this time
with the rumble-rumble
and squeaking of the subway
train in the city
when your head
lolled to the side in sleep
at 2:45 in the morning.

The angle of your neck
I will never forget.
Against the backdrop
of orange plastic subway
seats, sweaty and sticky
in the time right before morning.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.





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illuminateddarkness said...
today at 12:39 pm:
Dude, your poem is amazing and beautiful. I've never read anything like it.
 
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To_the_SeaThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Jul. 21, 2012 at 3:35 pm:
This is so great.  I love the imagery and idea of the train as a place where the memories occured.
 
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