On this Train

On this train
going up north
to drown my lips in all the wine.

I think it is time..

That I choose if it’s red or if it’s
you.

On this train
subdued
brief
stops..

Do you relate to the aching heart?
In my slumber on this train
I awoke to find
I still have you on my mind.

A bottle of red is what I chose.
No better not.. I suppose

The old lady continues to stare.

I wonder if you’ll be there..

Did I miss the stop?