Whistled Tune

This life is what I

ordered, not a

drive-through but

a supper club

This life is what I

ordered, not a

pond but

the ocean

This life is what I

ordered, not a

whistled tune but

a symphony

Okay maybe a whistled tune

A whistled tune but not a stuck one

the kind you can

get out of your head if you want

but mostly would rather not

Something you’d hop a

train and settle into,

getting closer

as you go

And then you remember the words

a grin spreads across your face

the train horn begins to blow

By the time you

reach the chorus

you leap from where you sit

puff out your chest and sweep

your hands like a wild conductor

Pretty soon the train’s in time with you

passersby stop and stare

at the chugging invincible duo

stopping traffic and

belting it out.

♦