Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

The Ride

Body slouched forward
eyes twinkling like neon signs,
he waves from a face-size window.
I clutch my bag and hold his smile
wherever he goes.

But he'll come back again
with clangs and whistles
around the circle.
while I turn into a pillar
graying after him.

No platforms here, just hope
tuning into railroad songs
and flashy red wagons
hissing to a stop,
at the Choo-Choo in the mall.

Prompt: train ride