Why are you up this late?

The windows frosted over are dreamlike.

Around you are coloring books and National Geographic Traveler magazines.

You lay down, lay down across the train seat and rockabye your soul.

Why are you up this late?

Were you waiting for your destination or only for this moment?

You will remember this all your life.

Sometimes I lie awake and change,

pass under tunnels

and through skies.

Sometimes I am flying, sometimes crawling,

sometimes stardust, starfish, Starbursts,

 sometimes stupid and silly, slipping away,

 sometimes happy, sometimes ocean—

 Lonely star,

I don’t know

what shape I’m in.