She said she thought he wouldn’t mind being dead.
I think he’d mind a lot
as if, after a mad, suicidal dash
cross-country to make up for lost time,
he’d arrived at the breathless station
only to watch the 9.47 of his life
disappear into the mist of its uncertain future,
leaving him standing forever,
cursing on a frozen platform
where the trains no longer call.
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