Union Station, Chicago

Tenderly an Amish man holds
his daughter’s hands. He walks
backwards to face her, as he leads
her forward. She is bonneted in black
and dressed all in brown.

On another bench, another baby,
white-bibbed and baldheaded, fidgets.
Her mother sports fashionably torn jeans.
Her dad is in jeans and bearded.

The harsh voice of the intercom announces
another train delay. After the intercom
is silenced, hushed music plays
a riff like Philip Glass, repetitive
and achingly beautiful.

Two babies peer at each other now
from their mothers’ laps.
The dads sit nearby. The uniform
of love transcends fashion and dress.
Despite a change in key or scale,
the melody resonates
in a mother’s arms
to carry and to embrace.

One thought on “Union Station, Chicago

  1. Tammy–

    Thanks so much for this poem.I really liked the way you showed the unity of parental love in the midst of these two diverse parental descriptions. It reminded of the classical Christian saying: “in necessary things unity; in uncertain things freedom; in everything love.”

    Liked by 1 person

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