Alone upon the platform, a heap of bags beside me,
I feel the train as it pulls away.
Such an old-fashioned locomotive –
Full of sound and fury,
Steam and cinders,
Sturm und Drang.

How well I know its deep tectonic rumble.
I’ve lived within that train for my entire life,
Sleepwalking from car to car.

What am I doing here on this platform all alone,
Eyes watering,
Ears ringing,
Throat burning?
What sort of banishment is this?
Why have I been cast out?
I paid for my ticket, after all –
Over and over again.

I wonder,
How will I ever find my way home?
Is there indeed a home out here in the cold alone?
Fear swims through me like a school of silver fish.

The train converges out of sight,
The rumble fades,
The steam swirls away,
And in the settling stillness I gaze across the tracks.

On the far side a man stands facing me.
Like me he is
Alone beside his pile of baggage.
He looks back at me, and with warm familiar dawning smiles
We raise our hand as one and read the sign we hold:

“Welcome Home”