A Poem About Nothing

Sent from my iPod

It’s 7:13 in the Am
I sit half awake on the train
There is a woman in the handicapped seat
She is using two needles weaving together a mustard colored sweater or scarf, or maybe a new hat for a loved one
Maybe it’s a newborn’s hat to keep him warm in this, the seventh of March,

She exits the train. Who else is here to fill my morning void?

I just see a lot of tired faces.

The gentleman next to me is reading the Boston Herald, I kind of want to ask him about yesterday’s Bruins game.

I resist this urge and the train tunnels out to overlook the Charles and amazing high rise buildings, sky scrapers, a beautiful morning view..

Soon I’ll exit the train and wait for the switch to Braintree

this will be the last time I see my reflection, for about five minutes

There is a girl I know named Joy I work with she never truly seems joyful,

I wonder if it’s because this train is taking us to a joyless place .

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