goodbye in their eyes

goodbye in their eyes while waiting to catch a train, oftentimes he sat alone at the depot —afraid—scratching initials in the dirt and sometimes in his head. hours became a collision of minutes while he watched make-believe dancers, well-groomed gentlemen, and worn-out pieces of life. trains chugged by infrequently and rain pelted out musical tin tones on an oblong rusted bucket, singing baritone moans of leaking liquid notes. he twisted big words and bigger ideas into and out of pretzel-like paragraphs while talking too loudly to himself, careful before answering what he didn’t believe. he wondered aloud about life then, umbrella in hand, turned quietly away, only the lingering commotion of the depot remained as a soon distant memory. just in time to catch a southbound train to another dot on the map… while by-standers waved at strangers with goodbye in their eyes. @ tolbert