Waiting At the Train Station
Waiting At The Train Station
by Edmund Siejka
Not far away
From the train station
Is a distant river
Deep
Cobalt grey
Churning it’s way between
Snow covered banks.
To the right
Towering above the tree lines
Is a Church
Inside a priest
Prepares for Sunday morning Mass
Early light filtering in
Through stained glass windows.
I waited for an errant train
Snow coming down quickly
Cold becoming colder.
In the train’s waiting room
An old man sat down
Bad leg stretched outward
Cane by his good side
Unbuttoning his top coat
Saying
“First hint of snow
And everything slows down around here.”
His words echoing in the nearly empty waiting room.
A woman sitting at the far end
Had that worried look
That parents often have
Her daughter,
Really a child,
Recited numbers
From one to twenty
In a voice as clear as an angel’s.
The old man tilted his head to one side
Listening
Counting with the girl
Tapping the cement floor with his cane.
Outside the snow continued unabated
Covering everything
In heavy white
So that even the tallest branches,
Limbs outstretched,
Knelt before nature’s might.
Copyright © Edmund Siejka | Year Posted 2015
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