Trains and Tunnels

When I ride the max--
Whether it's to school
Or back to my house--
I always look outside the window
At buildings, at lights, at people passing by,
Appreciative, yet wishing for another view.

And I wonder if he sometimes wishes that, too.

After I reach Goose Hollow,
I know my next destination:
It's Washington Park
And it's in a tunnel;
What is there to look at in a tunnel?

So when I go through the tunnel,
I close my eyes--
I'm usually tired--
And listen to the sound of the train,
Trying to guess when the concrete walls
Are no longer enclosing me.

And I usually guess right;
The train is loud in the tunnel,
Getting louder still
Getting louder still
Right before it's out--
And once the train is out,
It's finally quiet.

Things have their proper place:
Some get loud and then quiet;
Some are just always quiet;
And some are just always getting louder.

In this case--with him--
I hope things are always getting louder,
That the tunnel never ends.

The Treasure to Look

I usually don't like waking up early
But I discovered something most people miss
In the biting hours of the morning
Because people are just always
Too busy closing their eyes

In this glimpse, there was a winter sunrise
And though my skin felt as stone
And my breath formed brief clouds in my face
The pink and orange looked warm
Taking root in my heart

But with pearls, nature is greedy
Colors dissipating with each step I took
And though most may need riches and gold
Something tangible to hold
I but need the treasure to look

You Have to Be Lost to Find What Can't Be Found

They say you must be old
When your age is on a speed sign
But I say you must be crazy
When how fast your mind is running
Doesn't even fit