Brian’sPoems

The Crone on the Train

We met thirty years ago on a train
from Rome to Milan.
I was traveling on a student visa,
she had just been visiting her niece.

Already ancient then,
I am surprised to learn she is still alive.
My memories of her sad life story
begs the question,
“Why go on?”

I recall the conductor pointing
to the empty seat beside her.
She paid no attention to my greeting,
simply began talking
about how cold it was the day she was born.
From what I could tell,
her arrival came before the great wars,
and everything else I now take for granted.

I listened eagerly.
She didn’t disappoint
as she opened up the vault of her past
to one tragic story after another.
She told me how her fiancé died in the war,
opening a space for a violent man
to offer her marriage or death.
Then, how her infant son died as they fled,
and the many years she toiled in a factory,
until retiring at age 65.

She went on and on in the same vein,
speaking mostly of loss and hardship,
to the point as I watched her walk away,
I felt both relief and amazement.

So today I read the news -
she is now recognized as the oldest in the world.
I cannot believe it!
This I say with great humility,
“What is it within her which will not die?”