I met a man on the train today

He appeared to be middle aged
That is, if he would live to be 74
Or maybe 75

His downtrodden face brought me down with him
The distress in his eyes somewhere between

Unable to pick a song on his iPod and
concerned about keeping his water running this month

All black but the green on his pack
And the pink arms of his sunglasses
His plastic, early-2000’s retro sunglasses
Resting on his head
At 2:02 AM

His hair doesn’t matter
Save the random wisps of grey
And the fast approaching shoulder length

He instinctually increases the volume of
whatever is entering his eardrum
as the woman’s voice warns again
for the fourth time of train traffic ahead

I suppose, sometimes, stopping is necessary
Even if just for self-reflection

While awaiting the passing construction
Just turn the volume up a bit more
Drown out the conductor’s voice
We know what it is we approach
We know so better than most

By now we’re in it together
On this train car for the long haul

Even if one of us gets off
We will both still be on board

Even if we get off together
Our souls remain forever

Time to pick a new song
Still three stops to go

Still with construction around every turn
At least we’re moving again
For now

A face of worried skepticism
Eyes wide, without seeing; visually agape
Staring a stare more empty than blank

Lingering as if to say goodbye
until the train doors open

And with two stops still to go
He departs

To address the world and do his part

To keep the water aflow

While I remain below