Blindly seeing the countryside
as it speeds by.
The rhythmic swaying of the train car
crowded wth the distance between the passengers.
Short phrases in foreign tongues
add another blanket to the isolation,
enveloping me in my silent desperation.
As I lean my forehead on the cool window,
the train slows its arrival to the station,
As if it teases me with expectant hope.
My longing is as effective as paralysis,
while passengers come alive,
gathering their belongings to depart –
to become –
where they belong.
To no avail, I seek a hint on the station platform.
Resigned to what will not be, I slowly exhale a frosty breath.
Woodenly, I raise my finger to draw my heart on the transparent canvas.
My small and beating heart,
alone, for him to notice.
Silently pleading, “find me.”