The Dream

In the dream

the train we are on slows

to approach the station.

We hear the rhythmic 

clacking of tracks 

underneath our feet

like a faltering pulse.

We are together in the railcar

you, me, our children, 

our family 

and small circle of closest friends,

everyone we know and love.

The air is thick

with inevitability.

We don’t speak.

Wheels grind, the railcar jolts

to a shrieking halt. 

Doors slide open,

I exit onto the platform,

without a word, alone.

It is white, antiseptic.

I face the doors of the railcar,

watch as they seal,

glimpse you through the window.

It’s as if you haven’t noticed 

that I’m gone. You’re mind 

is on your destination.

The train starts to slide

away.

I don’t react.

I don’t know where I am 

but it doesn’t matter. 

It’s enough for me

to know that you are safe.