
From a Train Window
The truth is I do not want to train to stop.
I do not want a desination, a place to settle.
I want to travel. To visit. To sit and watch
and capture a life that moves with pen and camera.
I want to look back in years and ask
“where is that?” and what did I learn there?
What made me raptureous? Where did I find
a glorious peace, like in a lover’s arms afterwards
when the house is dark and creaks and cracks
and no one cares because the getting there
has been so magical.
About this poem
Feeling flat this morning, I wrote the poem to a random picture, taken from a train window on the way to New York City. I love to travel. More than the getting there, I love to travel. As I get older, it becomes more precious.
This one started as two poems that I did not realize was two poems. The other one will show up later, I expect.
Tom
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This poem won “Grand Prize of the Day” from Poetry Universe, a site of 57,000+ readers and poets from around the world.

I used to enjoy train travel too and was happy just watching out the window.
Nothing like it. Someone else drives. Big windows. Big comfy chairs. Internet. Life is good on the train.