I can promise you this
The trains will keep coming,
I’ll jump on, off, and wave as it leaves again
Over my shoulder, it’ll spit and whine
Head first into the distance, it’ll duck and waver
Through all the steam smoke and coal
I can smell my self-induced contentment
As always, my feet trip over the gravel
And I’ll clumsily return my ticket
For the destination is far less appetizing
Then the thought of leaving
And I’ve gone further standing still
Closing my dust-crusted eyes, my body
Lifting up through the smog surrounding
These western mountainsides
And my only hope is
That your arms are as wide
As an Icelandic volcano
And your patience is deeper
Than the depths of a distant Pacific
So as I’m falling down, bouncing off of
The Santa Ana winds
I can comfortably recline
Somewhere where our dreams meet
Where geographies merge and combine
The bright white beaches with
The San Andreas Fault line
Yet if my eyes open to the familiar
I’ll wait - from station to station -
As the best things in life are miles apart
From where they need to be

06/09/2011

Posted on 06/09/2011
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