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Gare du Nord by Jeffrey Gray

February 23, 2023

Poem by Jeffrey Gray

Gare du Nord

We stood in the middle of the station.
You would remember
if you were alive:
she was shapeless harrowed shuffling
with her two large bags—
even from a distance her
sidelong sagging heft said
something wasn’t right
Then we saw her see us—
young rucksackers saying
goodbye you in tears she
set down her bags walked
up and cursed me hitting
my arms and chest
with her mittened fists
not looking up but like a cat
kneading a sweater without
passion she meant to go on
record you would remember
how the ruthless light poured
down from the big ceiling
windows her lowered eyes
and her gasp that was more
like a sob now and the way
she kept repeating the curse
and when she started beating
harder you said Excuse
me we’re only saying
goodbye––not for always—

she shook her head hard
she kept on shaking it
she knew better she
knew how things play
out swollen cryptic
inconsolable chanting her
curses she knew me
she knew you she knew
what she had to do.

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