Friday

This station where I'm
Waiting for the train
Is free of clutter.
Wide-eyed, lovely,
Lonely people
On benches, watch the sunset
And feel space all around.

Like that new song,
The smooth cadences
Which free and tame.
Alive, with not a thought
Of sleeping
At the end of the day,
When all is cleared aside.

You dry the tears from my eyes,
And still my breathing
In the gentle flesh of your shoulder.
Joie de vivre encore une fois,
And quiet, solemn discourse in the rain.