I’m somewhere 
I’ve never been. 

A polished path threads 
me through a turnstile 
the way today pleats yesterday. 

Coming and going blurs, 
drops neatly 
as my digital token. 

Wheels clatter rails 
and  I’m three feet tall 
again, waiting 
for choo choo grandma 
at Fairfield’s Metro North. 

I won’t flinch 
at the sharp squeal 
and hiss of brakes, 
picture myself shoved 
onto the hot rail, 

the one my brother said 
is waiting 
to fry me like bacon 
after wheels slice me in half. 

In this version I catch 
and cup a sparrow 
hitting against walls 
of my chest 
as the rumbling giant 
vibrates the platform. 

In this version 
my toes dare the drop, 
tap to the hum. 

Bio: Nancy Sobanik