I am at the station
but there won't be a train coming.
Not yet.

I am looking into the distance
searching for any movement
in any direction
wishing for a train
wanting the journey
needing a destination.

I remember the blur of motion
the thrum of sound
the rush of wind
the satisfying halt.

Even before the train comes
you can imagine getting in
finding a seat
settling down
wondering where you've been
and where you're going to.

You can anticipate
the cosy carriage
where you exhale
and trust the engine
to take you somewhere.