Perhaps Tomorrow

Homeward bound, to the clackety—clack of the track.Strangers all around, though not by sight. Tired eyes, looking for the landmarks that signal home.

The windows beckon, offering stolen glances of a landscape we knew much better in the light of half a day ago.

Muted notes from bands we’ll never know, headphones offering solace from the silence that engulfs.

Stolen glances. Untold stories. Lives crisscrossing, yet not.

The city lights near. The shuffled gait begins. Together we move, but as in...