A Train (Poem)

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The A Train

As if our mother

grew 130-ton titanium arms to rock us with

Her heartbeat: the hum of train tracks and electrical miracles

We drift to sleep

Like we’re in the back seat

We may fight it

remembering,

that our mothers are far away

that we have jobs

Responsibilities

and a trek to our front door—

But the A train is more merciful than that.

She rattles even louder in a trance

And the day melts us into our seats

Heads falling back on the aged glass

Eyes drifting shut

and our bodies dancing

until each stop

We are time traveling now

In the backseat of her car

Succumbing to the slumber

Even if just a dream

Just a passing epiphany

that we are not completely lost

in this life

We have a loving default of

Safety, rest, and peace

that beckons us home

in her steel arms