Bullet Train Tokyo-Sendai

The sounds have become familiar
Mutant fugues before the station
The wailing vina of brakes
Slippery tracks like spring snow beneath skis
Snapshot return of the conductor’s punch
The forgiving impact of opposing traffic
I almost understand the voice from the speaker

The vibration of the cart passing
Full of coffee, napkins and other things
That shouldn’t taste like fish
But do

Outside the countryside calls me
Even if the people do not
The rivers like washes always occupied
The privacy of trees, a thicket of wealth
Temples shadowed by factories
And the rice paddies that eat bicycles

Tired, glad to be moving on
But sad to go
As a child, crying when leaving the familiar
As if the fun was kept in one place
The station wagon traded in for a bullet train

Perhaps I left part of myself
Here, one time before
For I keep finding it
Every time I return.