Arab Woman on a Swedish Train

Arab Woman on a Swedish Train

To Molly & Kyle & the warm spirit of Kayla


Her eyes drift open and close

as a silk veil in a desert breeze.

Outside, she sits with chilled cheek

pressed against icy glass.

bundled blonde blue eyes fill her world now.

She is tired and her eyelids are slowing the cold.

Her hair is black and skin olive

from generations of sun

and sand that reach out to warm blue seas.

Inside she is warm, inside the desert

the sand is warm,

the breeze caresses her skin

and her veils drift,

An ancient voice whispers into her ear

of the ways of the past,

the ways of the desert.

and she is warm.

The train lurches to a stop.

She awakes and can not

pull the cotton frilled scarf tight enough

to keep out bitter cold, bitter chill

of the concrete, of the blue eyes,

watching, waiting, scanning far-away aisles

for empty seats.

A man weary from his toil

thinks of faraway,

watches the last burning red of the sun


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