For Monnie who has today faded away

Rest in peace, sweet Monnie, maker of portraits, gardens, and living rooms.

The Great Train

Monnie across the street believes

She’s travelling in a great train

And travelling far;

Tonight she dines in the dining car,

The meat is sweet

but the soup is thick and tastes

a little bit like tar,

all the same, you come too,

she softly croons, patting my hand

while through the glass her gaze remains

on the changing plains, the clearing rain,

the stars, the stars, the stars.

(first appeared in Think Journal)