In the dark
There are so few of us I recognize everyone
Like the guy standing RIGHT on the EDGE of the platform
Right on the yellow line!
He turns his back when the train comes
Pushing air ahead of it
And he takes the brunt of the gust
In all weather. I don't know why!
Most of the time I'm just worried he'll cough wrong and fall so I don't really look.
But today I just didn't think of it - what am I, his Dad? No.
I just stared at him
Had room to re-realize: we are immersed in fluid.
Standing in a sea of air
That goes in and out, sustains, inflates.
Our stories, conflicts, concerns, calculations, insults, embraces, all float around in it.
We are in a great container full of it.
We forget all the time.
