Poem by Maria Polydouris


The train station is a sad place

soon after the train leaves.

Moments earlier it was stopped here

on the rails with the passengers

coming and going in haste

laughing without any reason

and the ones who stay behind

don’t have their previous faces.

The emptiness of the rails, the silence

of the station that lost its train

and the ones who stay behind scatter

with decisive steps as if following

their Fate. Something of theirs

leaves them every time and they stay

at the station closing their blurry eyes

before they courageously turn back

with their backs even more stooped.

Cursed let it be the separation

yet even with you I shall fall in love

because the hello was sweet

and the hand waved in the air

and the handkerchief was whiter

than a bud, a light in the distance

that I hadn’t seen before

your vision serene and beautiful.

Cursed separation:

my lips tremble calling your name.