From a Distance

Published by Betty Naegele Gundred at July 23, 2022

Betty Naegele Gundred

Returning from New York,
the Peapack Gladstone line –
those old wicker seats
on the Erie Lackawanna.

I sway with the train
from rail to rail
on opposite sides
of parallel tracks
like my adolescent mind.
I sigh, melt into myself…
What side do I side with?

Out the window, darkness.
Passing lights blur
like a time-lapse photograph,
my life
distorted
reflected images jumping off
the pane.
I see myself… or at least a version.
Who is she? I wonder –

a confused young woman?
or just another passenger
on her journey
riding life down the middle,
trying to connect . . .

I didn’t realize then
the point
where railroad tracks converge –
is from a distance.

Betty Naegele Gundred

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Betty Naegele Gundred has enjoyed writing since high school when she was editor of her school’s literary magazine, though she taught middle school science for twenty years. Her work has appeared or will soon appear in publications such as Current, The Heron’s Nest, Frogpond, Last Leaves, Months to Years, Orchards Poetry Journal, and Open Door Magazine. Betty lives with her husband in the Sierra Foothills of Northern California and enjoys Zumba, hiking, and photography.