A train goes up a train comes <br />down. We pass in the night. Silence <br />ricochets through the rooms. You <br /> <br />sit aimless in the corner. The leaves <br />on the mango tree at the far end of the <br />garden rustle words to you. The moon stretches <br /> <br />a finger to play with the curtains shivering <br />in the wind humming through <br />leaves beyond carrying stories to <br /> <br />you of things happening on the other side of town. <br />He prepares to leave for another night <br />of revelry with someone new. The low <br /> <br />growl of a car in the distance then all else is as <br />it was; still. Even the crickets have <br />stopped their gossip in shock at what <br /> <br />he did. But does anyone else care? Pools <br />of warm water break their banks <br />and flood, washing your face clean yet it cannot <br /> <br />wash away what’s inside. That stays <br />blocked, the key has disappeared. You <br />cannot break the lock. The train passes through <br /> <br />the empty station. The lone cat opens a sleepy eye <br />and yawns. The sounds move in the <br />night and get lost in the darkness beyond.<br /><br />Shirani Rajapakse<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/where-do-we-go-from-here-16/
