Two Steps Forward To Go Backward
She saw me for the first time.
I wore deep blue jeans, and a pink polo
I was trying, to solve quantum physics.
I was planning, for my future.
A future, to go beyond her.
To touch a galaxy, with a pair of lens,
only for I, to reflect on.
I stumble into my fading seat number.
The snow falls as each train wheel, breaks the ice off the tracks,
as each wheel sputter, I feel farther away from you.
The train comes to a halt and a voice spoke.
“We have a delay because of the weather conditions. We apologize for
any inconvenience.”
She saw me for the first time today.
We did homework together,
we play games together,
we drove together,
we walk together.
She had feelings for me, feelings
for I didn’t share with her, or
I couldn’t share
I always look pass her, like a clear glass bottle.
This train became frozen.
I am in my seat waiting, for a sign of relief,
it has been three hours since any sign of life.
I think about the time,
the time where we were kids, and we ran
around all the yards and get in
trouble for disturbing the peace.
The snow has thickened like moms clam chowder.
No food, No water. The train engine began to roar.
The wheels began to rotate again. A voice came on again,
“Our next destination is Tokyo; please remain seated until we reach our
destination. Next stop Tokyo.”
I saw her for the first time.
She bumped into me,
Wearing that tacky, blue, school uniform,
and she smiles at me in embarrassment.
I remember the brown flowing hair,
and her skin, as soft as the moon.
Her eyes remind me of twinkling planets,
waiting to be discovered in
another galaxy.
We grew up together.
But today, I saw her for the first time.
