I remember my fear of train stations when I was younger. The way the heavy wheels of the wagons slowly rolled past. The restrained machinery of the engines, like beasts ready for attack. Still there was a hope and anticipation of the trip, in the dusty seats in brown corduroy, and in those little white headrest that was still replaced for each new passenger. Any longer train trip also means riding your own dreams.
I felt longing in the restrained steel beasts as I took my mother’s hand
Today we start our long train trip. To me writing haibun fits so well in traveling. I looked back into my own memory.