it doesn’t matter
where
the tracks will sing
the tick tack of time
passing
rivers, mountains,
small villages,
and lonely houses,
kissing the tracks
at precise distances.
I will go by train
it doesn’t matter
where
as long as it’s not here
where you know me
and I know you
and all is so common
place
we eat,
we sleep
we see the years mounting.
On these tracks,
I will go far from here,
where you are
where I am
where we share
the desire to forget
ourselves
in landscapes,
running alongside the tracks.
I’ll wave
goodbye
I promise to write
to send a gift,
a token of the ones who left,
right or wrong
in the pursuit of happiness.