Big Timber Road Getting on the train to go into Chicago, She often thought of crossing to the other platform And getting on the westbound train And riding it clear to Big Timber Road, The westernmost station, the end of the line. Or maybe one day, coming home early From the city with bags of things She’d bought her daughters, she’d stay on Past her stop and let herself be Carried all the way to Big Timber Road. She imagined the cars thinning out, Until she was the only passenger left. As the train got closer to the station, The trees would creep in, rustling greenly Along the windows, so that, when The train came to a stop, she would Step off into the woods.
Exactly!