I take the metro to work every day, it’s an hour door-to-door but I don’t mind because I get lost in a book on my commute and the time passes quickly. Strange though it may be, I’ve written quite a few poems inspired by riding the train – I guess inspiration can be found anywhere. Last week I wrote this poem:
Reading Anna Karenina on the Green Line
Beside me on the train you sat,
Tolstoy open on your lap,
eyes flickering quickly across the page.
I glanced over,
eyes moving from my book to yours
as the train slowed to the stop.
You closed your book,
clutched it to your chest,
a sigh escaping as your eyes closed
in satisfaction.
I breathed in your exhale,
brought the unsaid words into my lungs
and fell in love.
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