There's always something to write about. It's amazing how, once you put pen to paper, or finger tips to keyboard, the words come. They sometimes come in poetry; they sometimes come in prose. But, however they do, they come.
Not too long ago, as I sat aboard a GO train headed for Union Station in Toronto, I noticed a familiar gesture. The woman who sat across from me stared out the window. Her reflection fused with oncoming trees, cars, and buildings. I faced the direction of the train; she did not.
It came to me then, as it had so many times before, that I could use even a seemingly mundane thing as a springboard for a story.
Plus, I take the train so often, I'm bound to fimd gems - if I take the time to notice.
That morning, the words came in poetry. I knew the title immediately. That I would call the collection "Poetry on the GO" came later.
And, while I do not yet have that collection, per se - actually, only one poem so far - I know the others will come. Here now is the first from the...collection.