End of the Line

By Susan Carman

They jostled along

over the miles

like two railroad cars

hooked together,

endured bumps, jolts,

sharp turns in the track,

traveled the same landscape

day after day – one lonely depot

fading into the next,

stone crumbling, paint peeling

from once fresh façades,

silence drowned out

by the clackety-clack

of the wheels.

In the end, it was as simple

as pulling the iron coupling pin.

She stood on the train’s platform,

cool wind on her face, watched

as the cars separated,

the rear car losing speed,

slowing to a stop on the tracks

before it disappeared

altogether

from sight.

– Susan Carman lives in Overland Park.