Options.

v. 40 minutes
Into the woods
I walk,
Following
The tracks of travel.
No thoughts
Occupy my mind;
I’m completely empty.
The whistle blows
From a distance,
So I ready myself;
One foot at a time,
I step onto the tracks
And plant myself there strongly.
When I see it
Round the corner,
I take a quick, deep, final breath
And squeeze shut my eyelids,
Preparing myself for
The impact.

The surprise comes, though,
When I don’t feel it;
Instead, I feel the train
Rush past me,
Only a foot away.
When did I jump off the tracks?

How much panic
Washed over the one
In the front of the train
When he realized
He could not stop?
How often
Does it happen?