Tags
Communication, Connection, creative, Crossroads, friendship, loss, Love, poems, poetry, Small Provincial Station, spirit, Strangers, Trains, verse, writing
We met when we were strangers
On platforms changing trains
Time would never be the same
No season spoke the dangers,
Our faces wore expressions
Of kindred spirit found
Our voices made no sound
No doubts and no transgressions,
We stood aside the crossroad
And looked along each way
Hoping for another day
To break the secret code,
We met when we were strangers
On platforms changing trains
But I could feel the hurt and reins
Beneath my feet the dangers,
We met when we were strangers
But I knew even then
That I was nothing more
Than a small
Provincial
Station.
chrisnelson61 
This is great Chris I like it very much.
Thanks, Bruce, I appreciate that – I was a bit unsure myself!
I like it, Chris. There’s a story here behind the lines.
I’m so glad that you saw it, Mark. I certainly had a story in mind but wasn’t sure that it was coming across so I’m delighted that it worked for you.
Great exploration of those chance meetings, like ships passing in the night 🙂
Absolutely. Thanks, Tom.