Metro

Traveling subterranean,
An empty coffee pint
Rolls on its plastic brim
Along the train’s floor,
Following the same arc
Back and forth—
Stop in, stop out.
A morning pick-me-up
That won’t have the favor returned
Until a graveyard sweep

And nobody pays attention.

They stare straight ahead
With longing eyes
Widened by longer faces.
The rail screams a lullaby
That only they understand.
Each stop closing in on home,
On the end of the line—
Day in, day out.

And when the last passenger exits,
The hollow train sighs.
They share too much in common.