Commuters wait on the long shelf that leads to the city.
Some read the newspaper, others stare at the abyss
or the electric rail. The days near the Ides of March.
Snow melts. A breeze puffs up a plastic bag and blows
it down the tracks. It is alive awhile with a soul of air.
The little shell we make around our self is nudged.
Too bad I've lost the spring in my step to leap the stairs.
From where I stand on the train, I see hair fall to curls
on the back of a young man's neck. My mother loved
so fiercely once someone curled like him. Outside, husks
of weeds that border the railroad, stretch to a long bristle.
It's hard to say if the branch shows now a scar or bud.
All the way into the city I read over his shoulder about
scandals and divorce. With the thaw comes the mud.
Green Line Downtown
Robert Klein Engler lives in Des Plaines, Illinois and sometimes New Orleans. Many of Robert’s poems, stories, paintings and photographs are set in the Crescent City. He has received an Illinois Arts Council award for his "Three Poems for Kabbalah." Link with him at Facebook.com to see examples of his recent paintings and photographs. Some of his books are available at Lulu.com and Amazon. Visit him on the web at RobertKleinEngler.com.