Aisle-seated on a train bound away from a beautiful union.
Friends engaged & new memories made…
Thoughts broken by the abruptness of girl seated quickly;
Macy’s bag thrown on the floor with a red long-stemmed rose inside.

“Is this train headed to Baltimore Penn Station?!”
3 hours into the ride from NYC and she asks now…
There is a hint of hurt and quickness in her voice.
“Yes it is,” I answer softly. The next stop is hers.

As she leaves the train, her rose drops from her bag and onto the floor.
A man picks it up and attempts to shout, but does not get up.
Something told me that it was more than just a rose to her.
So I ran and grabbed it from the seated man.

“EXCUSE ME!”
I run down the aisle, praying the train does not pull away from the station.
Luckily I see her steps away from the train exit and 1/2-way in/out I poke her on the shoulder.
“You dropped your rose!”

“Thank you. My grandfather’s burial was this weekend.”
“I am sorry to hear that.”
Long-stemmed with no thorns, and a deep red.
The rose’s weight must of matched her heart.

And I immediately thought of my grandfathers…
I needed that.