Terminus - June 9 2023

 

Terminus

June 9 2023



You get used to it.

Trains in the night.

The staccato racket

of steel on steel.

The urgent clanging

of the level crossing

just up the road.

The loud whistle

rising and falling

as it goes dopplering past.

Which has always struck me

as a lonesome sound,

especially at night

in the dark stillness

when the world's asleep.

But also enticing,

arousing my sense of wanderlust

on its journey to who-knows-what

exotic destination.

The bright light

piercing the dark,

casting rough shadows

that travel the wall

across from the large bedroom window.

Which is old

and single pane

and rattles in its frame.

I sleep soundly.

Not at first, of course;

but all it takes

is just a few weeks

and the brain accommodates.

Obliging me

in the same way I can sit for hours

and be unaware of my weight

against the chair.

In the same way

I've stopped noticing things

and take others for granted.

In the same way

life goes too fast,

and only now do I realize

all the mileposts and landmarks

and rites of passage

I let pass me by.

My past a blur,

receding into a murky distance.

And how it seems the future

is bearing down on me

like the end of the line.

The uncertain journey

through the long lonesome night

approaching its terminus,

just as the morning light

softens the horizon.

When only now

am I beginning to feel

I’m finally able to see.