Last One Out of Boston

Taking the Commuter Rail during the day is beautiful—

getting to view houses that you won’t see again

until your next trip...

Taking it at night is a dream.

Endless

and my eyes can’t see.

This is no round trip.

Riding inside this running box

only to stop every few miles to catch its breath.

Your eyes fixed out that window

looking at whatever light is brave enough to exist out therein the dark.

It’s so warm in here...I want to go out and invite that light in

but I know that if I step off—

I can hear the tracks below me

taking me...and I let them.

I can hear them fall behind the last car.