trains across the sea

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not much
comes down the
line, these days.

i used to say
to the others
that this job
would be real easy
if nothing ever
came down,
but now i say
nothing because
nobody is around
to hear it.

when people used
to come through here,
they would tell me that
god
was a hulking mass
of neon and concrete
and tears, and that he
would come for us all
one day.

sometimes,
i have dreams
where a weeping
woman i'm sure i've
seen somewhere
before says that
she looked at the
most beautiful
sunrise and felt
nothing.

i wonder if
there's a place
somewhere
where the trains
still come through
every day filled
with new people
and their things.

sometimes,
i stay up so long
that i get to see
the sunrise, and i
stare at it until
it ends, trying to 
feel something.

i like to imagine
that some of the
others are now
riding the trains
somewhere across
the sea to
places full of
dewy spring mornings
and hills in forests
where you can
see all the stars
and feel like
you have a chance.

i think sometimes
that i wouldn't
care if i was
in a place where
trains came through
every day, because
people leave and
no train can
bring them back.

i want to
believe that
god
lives in the
breeze that flows
through the grass
on hot summer days
and the ripples
that stones make
on still water.

i hear something approaching.

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trains across the sea

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