loco

When I was a child
I remember a plastic toy train
that I dragged around the house
by a string.
a string my father would tie and retie
when the fibers got tired and gave out
and I would cry because I didn't want to push it across the floor
I wanted to pull it behind me
drag the primary-colored locomotive
round the first floor in an endless loop-
kitchen, living room, dining room, kitchen...
and on and on.

I remember that train.
And now that you're here,
or rather, there
never here
because you're too busy,
you can't get away
something else has come up
and you're needed-
I feel sorry for that toy.
It must have been so tedious
to travel behind a child
for hours
for years
just waiting to be set aside
or broken
or given away to follow another child
and the child that followed.

And then I have to check,
just the make sure
that I'm not on a string.