The driver asked if I’d like to sit down

I replied “I’ve been sitting all day.”

The greater truth was that I wished to feel the floor move and sway.

So I stood, holding fast to an iron bar,

my suitcase by my side

as empty seats stared through the dark

in an orange-glow ebbing tide.

We trundled through some in-between place

where dark melts into light

where night is warm, machinery leers,

and my heartstrings tug like kites.

My ears are full of thunder,

of pistons, wheels and oil.

My eyes are full of wonder

and the future will not spoil.

And as I breathe in all that is industrial divine

I cannot escape me and all I am is mine.

It’s past midnight, and I’m 21, and oh, so far from home.

I’m alive and alive and

A L I V E

riding the shuttle alone.

— Millie Florence