We rode the train together,
still wondering if a day on the rails
would be worth the price of our tickets.
Meandering along the coastline,
we watched seagulls skim the waves,
then witnessed grape harvesters in straw hats.
One lifted her eyes up to the sound of the train
and I saw a young face, browned by long days in the sun.
Did she want to flee from her labor,
jump on the last car,
haul herself up the ladder
and sit like a queen on the top of the rushing car
until a destination stop would free her
to jump into the woodlands and run to a new life?
Braver than we pretended to be,
as we shared a croissant and sparkling water.
Bellingham beckoned our departure--
middle aged adventurers,
picking up the old yellow VW van
to rattle through the pines into the Palouse.
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