Platform 9

The clanking of the railway tracks warns pedestrians to stand at bay.

The girl wearing black chiffon dress with a green track jacket

stood close, gleaming at a train as it swooshes past us.

She stares intently like she could recognize something others couldn’t discern.

 

 

The sky billows above us,

threatening to downpour the heavens.

I needed to be en route to Beaumont

before the rain began.

My guess is, so does everybody else.

All heads turned south to the direction of the train,

except hers.

she remained still,

like there was a magic mirror man

in front of her.

 

 

30 minutes will pass before the tracks brighten up in

the distance.

perhaps our train is drawing closer,

but then again, it could be lightening.

The train stops and all of us force our way into the carriage

I feel a drizzle down my arm.

 

 

The doors close and the rain grows heavy.

I see a lonely figure outside

Maybe I was wrong

and her marble eyes

wasn’t glimmering at me

like she was reaching through the darkness,

into my soul.

 

 

I gasp for air

as I catch a wisp of a fragrance

that takes me back to a time of lonely nights,

and even lonelier days.

The train leaves the platform

as purple rain trickles down her chin.

2 thoughts on “Purple Rain

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s