Robbie Yates telling a very sad tale – and telling it very well.
It may make you cry. G:)
She lingers at the station on her seat
she shivers, wrapped in coat and knitted shawl.
The train arrives, she shuffles to her feet
I watch her, fearing faltering or fall.
I see her brittle figure on the train
and as the seasons pass, she seems to fade;
some strangers stand, alerted and humane
in case she reaches out for arm or aid.
One day we wait and still no train arrives;
the crackled speaker voices growl “delay.”
Her watchful eyes are glimmering, alive;
I take her arm. “Let’s go by cab today.”
I ask her why she journeys back and forth;
she tells me that her Love is very ill.
“The hospital is twenty minutes north,
but while I can still reach him there, I will.”
From that day on, I smile to see her there.
I share my small umbrella in the rain.
And then, one day, her…
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