The Truth About Tigers

You never really liked the underground trains,
thick air humming with the tracks,
as people morph into shadows, shapes,
each lost in their chosen universe,
caught in the trance of a digital dance.

Do they see the subtle ballet of life?
A yawn rippling, laughter piercing
through the steady drone of wheels on steel?

A child clutches his mother’s hand,
eyes wide with wonder,
attention rapt by the novelty we take for granted.
The mundane miracle of the daily commute.

Briefly united in this moving capsule,
we hurtle together through time and space,
only to scatter in the cardinal directions
of our stories

when the train stops. I see a reflection in the glass,
my own face superimposed
on the dark tunnel walls.
You should smile more often.

This poem was written in response to the dVerse Poetics prompt, “Travelling by Train,” posted on June 18, 2024. In contrast to the MTA subway trains, which are on time 84% of the time according to ABC7 NY News, I’m predictably late for this prompt. But here we are.