Stretching and grasping—yanking on the iron bars and hauling up with unanticipated strength
A tango with a commuter rail train
Impassioned and blind
As sunlight jitterbugged across the snow
Yes, it’s crazy to chase a moving train
Unless no other train is expected
Unless my lover is three stops away
Even though I had known her for only a few months
And I didn’t ask her permission before I set out for the train station
After half an hour’s walk through drifts left by the unprecedented blizzard the night before
And, arriving at the station, I had just been told no trains were running
That no transportation of any kind would be permitted for a week
Except an occasional train to clear snow from the tracks—
At that very moment a train blasted in so I ran to the platform
It would not stop for me
But there was no time for thought—
Stirred up by youth I followed along the slippery tracks
Through blinding snowbanks under the imperious sun
And after the train halted a block away
I made the leap onto its chassis
And found my way into a cabin where
a straitlaced Boston conductor, not appreciating
the agility of my saltarello,
insisted I pay a fare
I took the train those three plodding stops
And my lover let me in
Andy Oram
October 8, 2024