At The Station

Written by: Edmund Siejka

On a hot and humid morning
I saw my mother off on a train
For some reason she didn’t look for me again 
She was busy talking to the old Ladies
Particularly the one sitting next her
All dressed in her Sunday best
Talking as if they knew each other for forever.

They were going away 
Waiting for the train to depart
Murmur of voices
Signs of excitement
There were others on the platform
Milling around
Patiently waiting
Suddenly the conductor called out
All aboard
Door closing with a thud 
Train slowly chugging out of the station
It had rained the night before
Mindlessly I studied my reflection in the wet pavement
Dampness evaporating
In the summer heat.

I waited on the empty platform
Wondering what to do next
It happened so fast
But then again it happened so slowly
And now she was gone.