THE WEEKLY TRAIN

I remember Adlestrop, the poet wrote so well

and I remember a station where I boarded the trains

that took me to the thrill of the big city life:

the elegant squares, the linden-scented streets,

Talks and lectures by Borges and coffee with new friends.

It felt like an adventure to roam so freely and learn:

eclectic architecture, churches, theatres, arcades…

A panoply of wonders I never failed to see

yet still that quiet station saw me back every week:

youthful girl with long hair, alighting from the train,

my soul so old with yearning, my heart aflame with hope

of seeing you, once more, turning radiantly a corner:

Your singular smile and sky-coloured gaze…

They were the grandest treasures that made me feel alive.