Saturday, October 18, 2003

Platform #3

For your eyes,
I scour the faces on the passing train
on platform number 3.

There are fleeting, momentary peeks at you,
peeking through strangers' eyes.

Glimplses of your soul, vanishing as quickly
as the blurring faces whisking past my eyes.

The train passes, and the faces vanish, leaving me all alone
to wonder which train to ride on
that takes me to you.