The whistle of the train sounds lonely and distant this evening,
Could it be that you are far away just now?

In their younger days and as she was preparing the evening meal, the whistle signaled
She would see you soon; it took on a tone of exhilaration.

She no longer feels that it's a sorrowful sound.
She's been fortunate, she doesn't mourn for belonging; you've given her a lifetime of belonging.
She wonders about the privilege and she asks how?

In innocent times she used to run along near the trestle and she would imagine the train coming
At any moment; how exciting it was!
Barefooted and smiling, she felt elfish and even then, she felt that she would someday be with you.

The children loved the whistle and the clickety clack as it made its way along the tracks.
She regrets not asking them what is implied; perhaps they only needed the nowness of the moment.
She treasures these moments.
She treasures moments utopian with you, dear beloved.

They took a train ride once, you and she.
You bought her coffee and found a pillow for her head.
You made her feel unique and selected.
She feels embraced.

You enfold.
You make her feel new.