Last Train

Last Train
The beautiful countryside of my childhood
emerged vividly in my mind
as I waited for the last train back to the city.
><
The rolling fields and storm clouds in my memory’s past
Mingled with the scent of my mother’s perfume,
tentatively splashed on my wrist
as I went through her things today.
><
She should have been with us eternally
But she faded gradually into those clouds
And we are left with bottled memories.
><
“Cabochard”, I relearned the word,
Reclaiming her perfume’s name,
Restoring the past’s shaky grounds,
Returning to a semblance of newness.
><
I cried at the train ‘oh please don’t come’
longing only for the darkness to engulf me,
to cradle me deep within its velvet softness.
><
A low, sustained whistle and flashing lights
were the train’s answer to my plea as it approached.
I could not stand still any longer,
Ready or not, I was moving on. 

><

Collaborative Poem By @jdubqca *afcoory *MyVogonPoetry *vivchook *Brudberg *Permabloom

Photo courtesy of *Lynsm7