#The Compartment of Souls

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barren girder
#

I sit here, squished between people,
bored, waiting for the announcement
that will call out my destination.
And I can’t help but wonder—
where are these souls going?
The woman two compartments down looks serious.
Big chunky pearl necklace, hexagonal glasses.
She could be a teacher.
Maybe visiting her parents for the weekend,
a bag stuffed with exams to grade,
her head throbbing from a week of lessons.
She sinks into her chair a little deeper,
as if she could escape the noise of the train.
The man next to her looks stressed.
His laptop is covered in fruit stickers—
the kind from bananas—
and he chews his thumb while staring at it.
Maybe he has a report to finish before the weekend.
Maybe it’s his whole career.
Whatever it is, it seems to only be giving him
wrinkles and heart-attack risk.
A shame—he’s young,
he should still look joyful.
The man across from him, though—
shiny bald head,
suit jacket perfectly in place—
is rocking out with his words.
Gestures so big
I can hear him even over my classical music.
He laughs, he talks, he listens.
Maybe the most relaxed man
on the entire train.
A rare find in today’s world.
The woman beside me is writing.
Tapping furiously into her phone.
She pauses—
pretends the window is suddenly fascinating.
Ah. The lake outside.
Then back to typing, faster this time.
Who’s she texting, I wonder.
Funny—she has the same hair tie as me.
A small coincidence,
but still something.
There’s still a woman and her child left,
and I have two more forsaken hours
on this train.
She looks tired,
but not the bad kind.
The kind you get from spending hours
with a toddler in a cramped space.
Still, she plays with him gently,
keeps him giggling,
despite the squeeze of strangers on all sides.
That deserves applause.
The bald happy man joins in,
entertains the child too.
There he laughs again.

wet fiberBOT
barren girder
#

(Side note:
the woman next to me just unpacked a salad
with such a sharp vinegar dressing
it burns when I breathe.
Ma’am. Please.
A little mercy for the rest of us.)
Oh—pretty river view outside.

I wrote this with my laptop screen set to complete darkness,
half-blindly typing,
out of fear someone on the train might glance over
and catch me writing about them.
The irony of writing about strangers
while hiding like one myself
was not lost on me.

#

the poem was to long to post in one piece.

sonic merlin
barren girder
sonic merlin
versed dove
# barren girder I sit here, squished between people, bored, waiting for the announcement that wi...

i really enjoyed reading this. your ability to capture small moments and the nuances of everyday life is impressive. each character feels very real and relatable, and you paint vivid pictures with just a few words. i love how you take the time to observe the little details like the pearl necklace, the fruit stickers, and the woman's shared hair tie. that adds so much depth to the piece. It’s a skill that can be challenging to master, and youve done it beautifully. your writing evokes a sense of curiosity about the lives of strangers, and it invites readers to reflect on their own experiences. keep it up!