by Meg Kearney

I have a ticket in my pocket that will take me from Lynchburg
to New York in nine hours, from the Blue Ridge to Stuy Town,

from blue jays wrangling over sunflower seeds to my alarm
clock and startled pigeons. If I had a daughter I'd take her

with me. She'd sit by the window wearing the blue dress
with the stars and sickle moons, counting houses and cemeteries,

watching the knotted rope of fence posts slip by while I sat
beside her pretending to read, but unable to stop studying

her in disbelief. Her name would tell her that she's beautiful.
Belle. Or something strong, biblical. Sarah. She would tolerate

the blue jay and weep for the pigeon; she would have all the music
she wanted and always the seat by the window. If I had a daughter

she would know who her father is and he would be home writing letters
or playing the banjo, waiting for us, and I would be her mother.

We'd have a dog, a mutt, a stray we took in from the rain one night
in November, the only stray we ever had to take in, one night in our

cabin in the Catskills. It would be impossibly simple: two train tickets;
a man, a dog, waiting; and a girl with her nose pressed to the window.


  1. This portrait of longing goes so well with your random thoughts about speech being the second possession , after the soul.

    Only a blues ballad would pick up these notes

  2. Lovely...I could truly feel the train swaying and the heart longing.

  3. I'd be longing for the train to take me home to Lynchburg. That's my dream in a nutshell.

  4. I'd be leaning against the window, letting the sound and motion of the train take me home. Beautiful.

  5. This pulls at my heart strings in such a beautiful way.

  6. I can't put my finger on what I love about this piece, but I think it has something to do with the fact that her fantsy is so...specific.

  7. a wonderful post...I enjoyed getting lost & looking at that window.....only wanting more! kudos


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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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