July 9, 2008

  • Weight

    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.

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