From my open window I saw the evening train
running toward the city where it once began
and I wondered as I watched its lights
fade into the summer night,
"Where is it that they're going to?
What is it that they have to do
and how many will still be alive
when the train returns tomorrow night?"
A careless wind in passing had stirred the curtain lace
but it did not move me as it touched my face.
With my questions I stood looking on
long after the train had gone
and I guessed that the answers ride
with that train on its trip through time.
I listened to the ticking of the clock
and wondered at what is and what is not.
The tracks, they stood forsaken beneath a mist unclear
stretching toward the moment where they disappear
and they beckoned like a long-lost friend
to take me around the bend
with the night hung above my head
and all answers left unsaid
I could ride straight ahead into the black
without even thinking to look back.
In harmony a candle was burning at my side
with a wind in changing that could not decide.
I was turning as it flickered by.
Strange reflections caught my eye
and staring at a window glass
I could see myself at last
cast in shadows cold and dim,
standing outside and looking in.
As quick as I saw it, the mirror turned around
and the wind decided to blow my candle out.
In the darkness where a poem is
written on the evening mist
was a rhyme that I couldn't catch
so I simply lit a match
and waited for the evening train
to call me to my window again.
Rough cut video posted to YouTube 7/12/11. Click here to watch the video.