Poem written on the E train

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Two souls

sit across from me

and make light chatter

turning the pages of a Bible

as if I were a hearth

in their living room.

They collected cans

in the light rain:

her good windbreaker, his wide-brimmed hat.

Enter a girl in white sneakers.

She sits near me

and strokes a pink wire that blots

out the world.

I take out my pen

to record this moment,

maybe ruin it a little.

 

For a few stops we are carefree

as car keys in a country drive.