“A memory comes back”

A memory comes back.

The whistle, the junction,

The level crossing, a slow train.

Will I see you in the window, reading Hart Crane?

The journey was long, a hundred and fifty miles,

At the end of which all I got is,

“You aren’t so rich to be wasting money like this.”

You were right. I was then just a schoolteacher.

We sat in the moonlight.

You took out a photograph

And said, “Keep it.”

I have it in my wallet.

A memory comes back.

The whistle, the junction,

The level crossing, a slow train.

Don’t tell me you still read Hart Crane.