The poetry of commuting
Rise at dawn, roll out of bed.
Freshen up, get children fed.
Put our clothes on in a hurry.
Grab backpacks and out we scurry.
Drop kids off at school by eight.
Head for station for my date.
Park the car, buy cup of joe.
Bag on shoulder, time to go.
No one knows, must be discreet.
Got a secret love to meet.
Get on train and settle in.
Try to mask my impish grin.
Read a book, enjoy the ride.
Take in scenery outside.
Want to giggle, must refrain,
as playful thoughts run through my brain.
Harbored moments, must they end?
My stop’s next, around the bend.
Full workday ahead of me.
Need a boost of energy.
Off at five and heading back.
Just a short walk to the track.
Reboard train for journey home.
Free again for mind to roam.
Meditate or say a prayer.
Let my fancies fill the air.
Have to pick up kids by six.
Ponder dinner—what to fix?
Cook and eat, do homework after.
Next is bath time with some laughter.
Winding down to slumber deep,
get some very welcome sleep.
Dreaming of tomorrow’s day,
when again I’ll drift away
to my contemplative space
where I can briefly slow life’s pace.
Who’s this mate that I hold dear,
brings me comfort to think clear,
with whom I’m eager to align?
It’s commute train Number 9!
Photo credit: Shutterstock.com
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