Train to Chicago
An Amish boy peeks
around the seat back. I wink.
He blushes and disappears
at the sound of a soft German word.
A woman in a business suit stumbles
in her pumps on the way
to the café car. We make eye
contact, but she turns away.
A young mother squeezes
into a seat with a baby and diaper bag
She looks exhausted,
her eyes barely open.
A tattooed teenager with dreadlocks
bounces in Chuck Taylor’s and a White Sox cap.
His eyes too bright, he grins broadly
and I smile back.
Originally published in Midwest Review Volume 4.