at least once
everyone should wait
for a small-town train at night
where shadows sit on friendless benches
crickets skitter and bounce two tone chants off the platform
and the wind is missing resting after a busy day
perfect quietness becomes pure aloneness
too soundless to not stay awake
too quiet to not hope for sound
then a soft headlight rounds the bend
the triple horn blast shatters the silence
a moment of genuine warmth
for a noisy metal beast
as it slows to swallow
and take me away
back to that other world
where I sometimes wonder
if I belong either