Grand Central Station, NYC
Photo from Google Images
One week, my poetry group leader asked us to consider taking the train. Well, my trains of thought below switch tracks now and then: from London's Victoria Station Underground to the New York City's Metro North, which transported me from Connecticut via Brewster, NY to Grand Central Station, NY City, a phantasmagorical experience, centered with love.
Phantasmagoria
My train of thought travels
along rickety tracks
holding onto every second
of life, whirling images
in hues of benevolence,
common sense, and innocence
trying to make sense of it all,
love
Thrilling, drilling,
milling, willing,
this train has made stops:
friendships, family,
laughter, tears
love
Dedication, rumination,
allocation, tribulation,
abandonment, containment
achievement, bereavement
love.
Once, I rode the train in London.
It stopped suddenly, and we
were told to evacuate.
The bomb did not detonate!
Divine Love
I stepped through a city of bedlam
eyes of fear, fearless, far from home
found my way to the British Library
back to my daughter’s smiling eyes
alive and satisfied, determined:
Loved
Clickety-click, the clock ticks
in synchronicity with New York City.
Passengers wait, date, relate, abate
whirling past the swans, evergreens,
quaint boutiques of Chappaqua:
country love
to Harlem’s door,
racing past graffiti,
colors smearing, words jeering
interlocking letters on a wall
textual shout outs: anxious, proud
confused, fused, words:
city love
Bridge to tunnel, dark, lights blink
so many tracks, interlace under
this train slowly squeals to a stop,
doors open; we walk through the gates
under a Grand Central firmament
to blend in with the multitude
and I am one...
love.
© Jeanne I. Lakatos
(You can hear my reading of this by clicking HERE.)
