The Station

This morning seemed longer 

Than all  the ones before 

So I went down to the station 

And sat by the door 

The travellers were plenty 

But didn’t notice a thing 

Lost in my memories 

I missed the first train 

And try, try, try - as I might 

To count the steel wheels 

I am lost, losing sight 

Of how I feel, what is real? 

Now the clouds are a rolling 

And the good people run 

Afraid for their shadows 

And what’s left to come 

In the rain I seek refuge 

A watchman of kind 

Reflections in puddles 

Muddled and blind 

And try, try, try - as I might 

To count the steel wheels 

I am lost, losing sight 

Of how I feel, what is real? 

I head to the steeple, 

Where they sing the soul songs 

And in the parking lots 

All bets are wrong 

I prayed for the waters 

To steal me away 

But the rumble of cars 

Kept me at bay 

And try, try, try - as I might 

To count the steel wheels 

I am lost, losing sight 

Of how I feel, what is real? 

Gambling on a ticket 

That I never bought 

Counting my blessings 

Ending up with naught 

You’re a spark in the darkness 

Upon this worn and long rail 

Shooting stars on the tracks 

 Where no one can tell 

And try, try, try - as I might 

To count the steel wheels 

I am lost, losing sight 

Of how I feel, what is real? 

Copyright 7/15/2021 

Beth Sutton

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