Train Steps

She takes a baby step, one hand resting on a train rail.
Her green scarf puffs up, buoyed by winter's wind,
only to fall against the swell of her belly.

He smiles, almost a smirk, with a knowing glance.
A leather island, her bags lie on the floor.
Not that the other people care. They just walk around.

Her returning look is heated, face flushed from
knowledge--or perhaps just the cold. Hand tightening
around the freezing metal bar, she slides down
another rung, and that much closer to him.

His laughter fills the air. She holds her arms out, almost
petulantly, as people behind her shuffle off.
Not that she couldn't have gotten off herself of course.

She hurries away, embarrassed by the scene.
He is still laughing, but now chasing as well,
having accomplished a deed worthy of Heracles,
who had never carried such precious a burden.

In the warmth of their home, she pulls off her coat,
revealing a cascade of black hair--
not the short cap of curls she will have.
She waits for the months to pass.