The Train Was A Storm

she held the cup in her hand,
the warmth distracting the unworded looks
that said more than they didn't.
wasn't it every day?
that day was different,
she sat in a train that'd take her afar,
and the storms raked behind those smiles,
unsure when she'd share again
the tea, the warmth, and the smiles!

she waved her hand,
mirroring his,
the gesture, emotionless
words lipped out,
seemed like a whisper
drowned by the whistle,
as the engine spewed clouds of smoke,
and the train clanked out of the station,
her head bent to get one last look
of the starry eyes,
that'd be her strength
for days, weeks, maybe months!

she clutched the chocolates,
leaning against the window
her chin not seeming to mind
the dust, and the rust on the iron,
her mind was numb,
unable to choose -
to cherish the moments,
too recent to be called memories,
yet too far to be hugged,
or, brace the loneliness ahead.

the train was a storm,
that day,
and the tides pounded her heart
the craving, the urges, the longings,
as the smile faded on her face,
and the tears, dried on his,
with her lips curling up,
she let her hair down,
whispered
am I missing him?


© sashikant mohanty