North to South

by Tom Hatch

The platform was crowded as Monday's are.
The train pulled in a clamoring for seats
I had to sit facing north the train is going
A melancholy south
Riding backwards all my sins are coming out
From my past colored black and some sepia tones
it is hard to breath as the air
Wants to leave my lazy lungs as I am facing north
Going south but it feels a little cleansing
As my new thoughts for today are hitting me
In the back of the head I should do this more often
As my sins leave my stretching body into some poor
Soul facing south going south in the car following behind
He is sound asleep as commuters do
Waking soon to be angry with my sins laid out
Like a lost game of black, white and red solitaire
In the upstairs hotel room on a bed
As the gunslinger waits for the
duel to begin in front of the saloon
Making for a bad day