On to Montreal

Cascading wheels clatter
across steel, coaches shaking,
passengers
in interruptions of rest

and on they rumble,
a repetitious journey across
miles of pasture
trees clumped into silhouettes.

Conversations wind through
corridors, jokes lost in the melee
an attendant repeating:
‘Montreal—fifteen minutes’
her French accent penetrating

crossing twilight’s barrier
is faceless, except
for the highway, cars
flash-lighting into darkness.

© Richard L. Provencher