Traveling home
It is Christmastime
and a train crosses the plains
in darkness toward a city
of lights that floats ahead
appears and disappears
like a mirage.
Our window reflects us now;
darkness flattens the land-
scape, and silvers the glass
as we wait for strings
of light to crisscross
small-town streets
and join us to our past.
It is Christmastime
and even those who do
not believe in Bethlehem
believe in light.
And the city of light
flickers ahead.