train of thought
she saw me first
as we stood in
among the apples
though I wasn’t
the one she was
looking for or at
her eyes went
over my head to
catch the train
that chugs around
Bishop’s Orchards
she squealed like
she knew everyone
on board or like
she was a passenger
on the adventure
of her young life
she squealed again
when the train blew
through the breads
and also at the register
standing in her cart
waving at the wells fargo
wagon comin’ down
I’m in that store
three times a week
I mostly miss the train
though it’s always
circling the ceiling
but the little conductor
called me out
had a ticket to ride
if I were willing
to jump on board
maybe next time
I won’t miss it
Peace,
Milton
