The Fugitive

I watched him fly down the aisle
like a fugitive
arms and legs churning, face on fire
with the wonder of locomotion.

So what if he was only a tow-headed kid
no run-away, he
except perhaps from Mom
who would surely give him a hiding
for running through train cars.

Just a kid on a train
playing hide and seek with a friend
keeping time
to the click and clank
of steel wheels on steel rails

Just a kid
On the Saturday morning train

I watched him lean toward her and whisper
like a fugitive
Lips brushing cheek with a message of life and death
Legs touching, arms entwined
Face on fire with the wonder of Eros and Aphrodite

So what if he was only a man in love
no run-away, he
except perhaps from a world
without her embrace

Just a man in love
playing hide and seek through train cars
keeping time
to the click and clank
of steel wheels on steel rails

Just a man on a train
On a Saturday afternoon

I watched him read the newspaper
like a fugitive
Head tilted downward, eyes boring into yesterday’s news

So what if he was only an old man
no run-away, he
Except perhaps from translucent skin and sunken cheeks
And eyes that shine too bright

Just an old man on a train
playing hide and seek with a friend
keeping time
to the click and clank
of steel wheels on steel rails

Just an old man on a train
Rounding the bend toward
Saturday night

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *