Headphones surrounding her ears
like metal rubber earmuffs,
she leaned her head against the car wall,
eyes securely shut.
Seeking sleep?
Pursuing escape from the noise of the 1 train?
Concentrating?
The train jerked to a stop at 79th;
her eyes fluttered and opened.
For an instant, our eyes connected.
I smiled.
I always smile.
For an instant,
an even briefer instant,
a nano-instant?
a tiny smile danced across her face until,
as if she realized what she was doing,
the smile turned wry,
she squeezed her eyes tightly shut,
and sank further into her seat.
I looked away as the train pulled from the station.
3 February 2012
Shire on the Hudson
Along the Graybeard Trail 