To me, it was just a junction:
I never thought of it as
An actual place until then.

As we sat, her on the ground,
Me on the floor, I could see
The place in my mind,
All those many miles away,
Trees in their summer clothes,
Playing with the light as
They waved in the breeze.

Summer comes soonest in
The south, so the poster had it:
That year it seemed true.

With the benefit of nearly
A decade’s hindsight, I know now
That we took the wrong route:
We could have continued to
Move away without moving
Towards one another.

As it was, we denied ourselves
The chance to grow some courage,
To make our own destinies
Rather than resigning ourselves
To questionable fate.

So many years wasted, waiting
For things to get better while
We suffered, paying for
A theoretical future by
Sacrificing a very real present.

Despite the signs, I went
To the wrong platform, so
I caught the wrong train,
And spent the best years
Of my life trying in vain
To find my way home.

05/14/2018

Posted on 06/01/2018
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