Mount Airy Station---a poem by stephen richard eng

Mount Airy Station

The ever-yawning distance gaped between

The two of us, those last September days,

And nothing I could say could really mean 

As much as all the silence in her empty gaze.

I packed my summer clothes and hopes,

And dressed for autumn, that last afternoon,

When breezes shook the farm and apple-slopes,

And rain beat down a bitter, time-bleak tune,

Upon the wooden eaves, and winding road,

As we drove down together to the train.

The loss of our idyllic summer showed 

Upon my face, like slashing, whip-struck pain—

Her sister on the platform seemed aware

And glad of what was swiftly dying there.

05-06-76