Natalia A. Pagán Serrano

Daniel and I sit on our bikes in the cold and I am kind of drunk and far enough
from home and you that waiting for the train becomes a poem

I can't call you because you're thousands of miles away and I'm four hours
and 48 degrees behind but if I did I would speak loud enough over the tracks

I would tell you about waiting here in the cold and trying to send you a message
with only my breath, but you wouldn't ask me about the blaring train

you would say, Did you buy the thing to cover your face while you ride your bike?
And I would say, No, and you would say, You never listen to me.

Mother, if I blow out enough breaths, will it help this train move along?
Will it finish undressing the trees? Will it deliver these words to you?

Natalia A. Pagán Serrano is a poet from Puerto Rico. She currently resides in Oregon, drenched in tree-magic and rain, with her fiancé, Daniel, and her cat, Esteban. When not writing, you can find Natalia making soup.

You can find Natalia's poems at Acentos Review, Capsule Stories, and Portland Review online.

Follow at:
Instagram: @n.a.pagan
Twitter: @napspoetry

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