An Old Train Station

Memories at an Old Train Station

An old train station stands silent and still, Amidst old trees and weak lights that barely spill, The old lights glow on the rusty tracks below, As I arrive, a cough echoes. An old man pulls out a handkerchief, Wiping away the remnants of his cough. He glances at the slow-moving train, looking around “You’ve missed your train, sir,” he says, pointing ahead “I haven’t missed a train, sir,” I reply instead “I’ve missed a passenger who once came,” I said Ever since, I come here to find the passenger, long gone,

He looks at me, then up to the pale moon And with a laugh, says, “Our country is a boon In poetry, we’re self-sufficient, so we should export it soon” I chuckle and reply, “Oh, I see, you’re a poet too, in tune.” Our laughter echoes through the old station building The red tiles seem to join in the sound. We look up at the sky, in the dead of night, And there is another train, The moon-faced train, with eyes, pitch black, Staring down at us, with a mischievous knack.

The train whistles in the night, Leaving emptiness in its wake, a hollow call, For those whose dreams still stand enthralled. It roars and rumbles past, The old poet speaks to himself, “It’s not just the train, it’s something else, it takes all we hold near and dear.”

…

I liked “Share A Fond Memory” by Vidya Sury, Collecting Smiles and recommend it to you all:

You may like my other poems: