I don't know how to collect myself
when the train stops, and my heart
catches up to my ears in one
swift and unexpected jolt.
I may have been sleeping already.
Each day I move closer to
this hopeful moment of rest;
I misplace a little more patience
in my frantic haste to reach this pause.
Arrival is another matter.
It is quite the shock to stop. I fall
over the edge of my slick seat
and crash into my own Sabbath,
unable to stay my momentum,
though I fully expected the brakes.
I exit unsteadily to stable ground,
and watch the trains charge to and fro
without me. I am a little afraid
of getting stranded at the station.
I might find all the good seats taken,
or forget my next exchange. I mean,
it happens in spite of best intention.
The sidelines tease me
with "Welcome Home!" signs.
It takes a full day to remember how to be still.