by Richard Vince

The May morning Sun found me
Alone as the locomotives were changed.

It seemed a quiet border, just as
It had going the other way;
As though both countries had
Shrunk back a little, to leave
A small wilderness for me.

This time was like coming home,
Even though I was still the other
Side of a day, a night, and a sea.

Perhaps it was in that secret moment
That the seed was sown: I could
Go anywhere, do anything, be anyone;
Make a new home by planting
My roots in other soil.

From AC to DC; from high voltage to low;
Language becoming more similar
Yet less familiar. It is easy
To forget that change does not mean
That everything changes.

Was that the trap into which
I let those thoughts fall?
Or did I hide them with
Everything else?

I never saw the border:
By the time it was crossed,
I was asleep again.


Posted on 02/24/2018
Copyright © 2021 Richard Vince

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Glenn Currier on 02/27/18 at 06:36 AM

Richard, I enjoyed this little dream journey and the railroad allusions. I have such grand memories of trains and my uncle who was a conductor on the Missouri Pacific and let me sit in his conductor spot while he punched tickets. I liked the ideas of differences and similarities. The lines that meant the most to me were: " It is easy To forget that change does not mean That everything changes." Thanks for this lovely piece.

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 02/27/18 at 03:50 PM

Looking at Emmerich on the map it is smack dab at the border. I really like the countries shrinking back a little in S2 leaving that wilderness for you. S3 kind of takes me out of time and space. This is a fine exploration of what could be, what's on the other side of whatever. Thanks for this. My 97 yr. old mom reminded me just yesterday of the 60's when we had to walk across the border between Afghanistan to Pakistan, carting our suitcases and what-nots along behind.

Posted by Brian Francis on 02/28/18 at 12:05 PM

Realization of the possibilities. Came for me staring as a USMC poster at sixteen I joined at seventeen. Your poem also reminds me of my months stumbling around europe on Eurorail. Thanks for sharing this piece it somehow refreshed my soul. --bf

Posted by Leonard M Hawkes on 03/01/18 at 06:29 AM

Sprechen sie den von Emmerich zwischen Niederland und Deutschland? Emmerich kenne ich. Schone gedicht.

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