Lovers On Trains And Buses
“Lovers on trains and buses 

never see the landscape passing” –  

	– Stephen Heighten

never feel the wind in their hair,

never watch the sun turn

like a slow clock

winding down the day, 

never see it set

(like a plate upon a level table 

sinking through the floor 

of a drug infested dream -- 

a sixties scene, 

day-glo and iridescent),

never notice night

creeping in behind them

like a thief 

in inky black and starry eyes,

never think of Van Gogh’s painting,

the price of art,

never want the trip to end -- 

to leave the bus or train

and split like atoms 

at the station

for destinations off the map,

never want to move 

in lonely cars that sulk along

with tired radios 

and love songs 

that never hit the mark.

© Leo Brent Robillard