Seen from a train
A song about that girl that you see , or of whom you see different incarnations, across the world and who is defined by her remoteness and inaccessibility. Were you to meet her, and get to know her, it is possible that that her allure might fade. But you're never going to find out.
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I see her on the platform through a window streaked with rain,
I see her with her case from this accelerating train,
And though she’s lost to sight, ’though I travel through the night
In the morning I will look for her again.
I see her through the party, and she’s porcelain-polite.
Narrowing her gaze between the laughter and the light.
I see her walk alone along the shadows of the park,
And sleeping on the Nairobi flight,
Chorus:
But she’s too far away.
And the river that’s between us can’t be forded,
She’s too far away,
And her single-handed sharpie can’t be boarded;
I think I’ve always known
She was made to be alone
And she’s always going to be too far away
I see her on the ferry when we wait to disembark
And queue a yard behind her for the immigration clerk,
I see her in a photo in the album of a friend,
I see her when she’s dancing in the dark
I see her in the morning where the Cataracts descend,
And she’s smiling in the markets but is ready to defend,
All the borders of her kingdom if a supplicant aspires;
I watch as she’s pretending to pretend.
Chorus
I see her in the chorus, in the corner of the choir,
I see her sitting silent by the embers of a fire,
And as I watch I wonder if she’s ever going to know
Whatever it may be that she desires
I see her in the mountains staring out across the snow,
I see her in the valley where the quiet rivers flow,
And I know they’ll be no victory and no end to this campaign,
For I’ll see her wheresoever I might go
Chorus
© Peter Lastima 2019
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