Poem: Train to Seattle

Crossing Fraser River on the train bridge

Train to Seattle

Written May 9, 2017

I’m on the train to Seattle.
It’s 2013 and I haven’t met you yet.
It is slow getting out of the station on Main
not like the British trains in a rush
to go everywhere as soon as they can.
It goes over the trestles on the Fraser
that I see all the time and wonder what they are for.

It rounds the corner at Crescent Beach and
travels along the shore where I spent
so much time as a kid digging for shells and crabs
and building forts out of driftwood.
My old town doesn’t have a real station anymore.
Just one for tourists, a place to sell paintings and
beach windmills and we move through it slowly,
past the pier with that feeling like you live a long way
away and you go to your hometown without dropping in
to see anyone, but I blame it on the train.

It’s a different feeling when I go into the pho
place at Main and Hastings.
The place you showed me.
And buy one sub instead of the two
that I used to buy when I would arrive at your place
and kiss you before we turn on the hockey game.

by Wendy Stewart

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