Train Behavior

I scan the words on the page in my lap,

but I’m distracted.

He snores against the window.

She listens to a language learning program

without earbuds.

“Wo ist der Bahnhof?“

I slide over,

making room for the woman with a pet stroller.

She apologizes from 148th to 181st.

Her dog sits behind the rain shield,

staring at my bag.

I think he smells my hummus.

An aggregation of minors

sway and saunter into the car.

The speak only to each other

but in a volume that ensures broadcast.

They challenge and call out one another.

They laugh, and hide insecurity

behind grins and side-eyes.

The door opens

and I follow them into the rain.

As I struggle to raise my umbrella

I wonder when I stopped

swaying on trains.

Copyright 2019 – Laurie Marshall

This poem is being posted as part of the #100dayproject. Find out more here.