Momentary

Unwittingly, she danced among shadowy rhythms, synchronized walking, restaurants teeming, trains whipping, wordlessly, but for the conductor’s muffle, and a father, indifferent to eating, seeking, with unassailable dignity, assistance for three children. We put forward two dollars, a third of a bottle of water, and I offered a triangle, of my hands, upon my heart.  And he said -- Thank you, I love you.  In the station, a man, rapt, played the keyboard, spurring, a transformation, to a surreal film, I wish, would never end.  My wife and youngest daughter wrapped their arms around the waists of one another, I held our middle girl, and the oldest stood aside.  A train sped away, humanity recalibrated, and I conjured the glimpse, of an ostensible stranger.   By 2050 we will all be vegan, he said, and lay softly beside the endless labyrinth of wildflowers -- an announcement:  unbearable, this earth, will find, one more unaffected motorist, impeding traffic.