to nowhere. Want to come along?
I’m not sure of where we’re going or
if we’ll ever get off. They don’t make
stops on this train. But there are windows

to look through and watch
the rain. You can put on some music
and zone out if you please. You can lean
your head against the glass and

get dizzy. It’s a blur as we pass. Things
don’t take shape. The colors bleed together. There is
no escape.  It feels monotonous. And you get
easily tired. The days string together like birds

on a wire. If only I was a feather I
could drift away. But my face is like leather
and my hair is turning grey. I sit as a stone
all alone on splintered wood, that jabs me

in the leg. But I’ve lost circulation. So, I
don’t notice. I’m morose as burnt toast. Yet I keep
moving, on a one-way track to nowhere. Tell me
when we get there. Wake me up if  I’m sleeping.