Sunset on the 7:40

Sunset on the 7:40
is quiet, restrained
blue grey
Passing the Summit Press
in Chelsea

A golden stripe hugs the ground
until we're out of sight into
the suburbs

I can't wait to eat, to be
"home" for a spell, before I start
the whole damn thing again

Light carves beauty into factories
and my sports bra is a bit

The sun flickers between
smaller downtowns, casting
stars among their windows

Life is beautiful
and we can learn so much
from the past
says the man in the wheelchair
yet it's been said

Then an airplane flies through
A pair of swans dip into
the muddy marsh
I watch as I wait for
my phone to ring