A Stranger's Arms                                 3/13/94
  I stepped off the train
  into the cold crisp night
  My cloak settling about me,
  a smooth mantle of black
  over the milky white of my dress.
  I smile nervously,
  The car attendant wishing me well
  Telling me to mind my step.
  I shift my bags on my shoulders
  scanning the long platform
  from the head of the train.
  My eyes light on a tall shadow
  standing on the other side of the fence
  way down by the gate.
  There seems no reason 
  to look at any one figure
  So many bustling,
  more inside, out of the cold.
  I walk down, a steady gait
  fast as I can
  without taxing my tender knees.
  The bright halogen lights
  glare in my eyes
  behind everyone that's before me,
  faces in blue-grey shadows.
  Again the tall shape from before
  catches me eye,
  his hands in his jacket pockets,
  His jacket open despite the cold.
  As I come closer 
  to the gate in the chain links
  I see he has curly hair.
  My eyes fix on him,
  thinking,
  "Gods if it's not him
  I will die of embarrassment."
  Features form
  out of the glare,
  resembling those I know so well
  smiling out of picture frames
  and my heart skips.
  I walk through the gate
  and a few steps towards him,
  to the side, out of the way
  of the other passengers
  filing towards the lit station door.
  A light ignites
  as I set my bags down.
  He manages a "Hi," eyes blazing;
  I just smile,
  my arms wrapping around him
  for the very first time,
  He embracing me.
  We lock eyes for an instant,
  Our fires flare and become one,
  more than the sum of its components.
  Our lips touch,
  pressing together tenderly,
  In neither any doubt
  that we had walked
  into the arms of eternity.