I am looking forward to a train ride soon — to take my oldest son off to college in Washington state. I imagine moving through the plains and mountains and watching so much pass by while sitting with my child now moving into adulthood. The train will give us time, even as we travel efficiently west. The train will hold us together a little longer slowing us down long enough to notice the sweetness of this rhythm of our lives, of our swirling together, apart, together again.
Riding the slow train to Lampang,
we passed through small
northern Thai towns, the
stations just wooden shacks,
signs flapping in the gust
created by our train coming
to a stop. These were the towns
where my grandfather must
have traveled, carrying his bolts
of cloth on the back of his bicycle.
I watched as people working
in fields and walking along dirt roads
looked up at us passing by. How
briefly our lives intersected, looking
back, moving forward, winding
around each other like the wind
blowing leaves in dancing spirals,
before resting lightly on the ground.