In Transit


In Transit


You drowse in the rhythm of the

JR train’s click

over the tracks

opening your eyes briefly as

the train hushes

into another station.


This half-consciousness,

more like forced meditation

on an icy morning

than real sleep;

you draw out a long over

due yawn as


Koizume Station drifts past.

With eyes now open,

green and alien to

the dominating browns

you watch for your stop

through the window.


A row of half sleeping Japanese,

faces tight as concrete, are

reflected back at you

in the window.


You wonder why the softness of a

child’s nap always alludes

them on the sleepy

late afternoon trains.

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