Jane points to a lone bird on a powerline
as Tim looks down the tracks for the train.
Tim glances at his watch–just past nine–
then sees gray clouds heavy with rain.
Then Jane notes the small bird again,
toys with her bangs, and adjusts her hairpin;
Tim just nods and says, “I see it Jane.
The bird’s perched on the line in the wind.”
Tim wonders how this could work out fine:
until now, their love’s been so plain.
Sure, Jane’s sweet, and honest, and cute, and kind,
but she’s quite simple and often inane.
An apartment might smother their flickering flame.
They’d be no better off than they have been.
But Tim fears being alone, so he won’t complain,
as the bird stays perched on the line in the wind.
Jane thinks life in the city could be divine;
she dreams of an address on Broad and Main.
What she sees in Tim is hard to define:
maybe it’s because he makes her feel sane,
or because she loves when he whispers her name.
In an apartment, their real life can finally begin–
no more fights, no more lies, no more pain.
The bird stays perched on the line in the wind.
First a headlight, then speakers announce the train,
and Jane grabs Tim’s hand with a grin.
Soon, on the platform, not a soul remains.
The bird flies away with the wind.
-gj