a moment through the window of a northbound commuter train

pasty-faced passengers begin the bustle as metal on metal grinds and brings the train to a stop beyond the platform an apartment complex looms angry like a forgotten child grown wild up on the sixth floor, eye level for train-sight, a mother smacks a girl , all pigtails and curly hair down a narrow hallway to the right, a slump shouldered woman slows her gait at the door like a quarter horse pushed too far and steps over last week's trash into her stall slight comfort comes from sitting in the musty brown chair second hand hand me down, slip cover quilted and worn-cushioned neck arched and head side cocked like a hungry houseplant that longs for a sliver of sunlight she gazes at photos of Paris alleyways: a couple frolic, frozen in silent shades of black and white on macadam streets oil lamp lit beside a brick faced building for a moment she's there away from the sham and drudgery of dreams deferred, the horror of complacency