I saw you strolling through the station
Holding a 40’s typewriter the way others clutch a handbag.
You stopped to pick up the New York Times
Looked cheekily at the chocolate
Grabbed a Mountain Dew and skipped away.
Though my train was on a platform far far away
I followed you,
Slowly but determinedly
Ensuring your magic never escaped me.
You stalled in front of a busker
He was playing ‘America’ badly
But you swayed and sang along.
You winked and deposited five bucks
Waving and chuckling as you went.
At Platform Five we said goodbye
You stepped onto the welcoming carriage
And I listened intently as its whistle cried.
And I cried too
Losing you to geography and fate.