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CHICAGO UNION STATION WAITING

     He came to the station every day, rain or shine, at 9.

     He was always right on time.

   It was not 10 or 8, he was never late.  It was always then.

   It did not matter if it was the week or the weekend.

   A rule he would never bend.

    He was their friend.

   It was true, everybody there he did know.

   They knew where he would go.

   The same bench in the Great Hall.  

   The same people, he knew them all.

  

   He would wait.



   He would read the paper.

   The Times and the Tribune until noon.

   He would look all around at the sounds.

   He had fun.

   Around him, people to and from trains would run.

   He would look at a book.



   He would wait.



   When asked what he was doing, he would say the same thing.

   He was waiting for a train.  There was never a change, never a  

   range.

   When he was asked where, he would say "Colorado,.

   California too.  It's true.  A lot of miles."  

   He would say with a smile.

  

   He would wait.



  Afternoons, he would have food.

  He, always in a good mood.

  He loved to talk.

  He would talk cars, trains, planes, rain on the plains.

  He would talk about how fast and how far trains could go.

  What we would do without them, he did not know.



     He would wait.



   At night, he was a delight.

   There was still, a lot of people running through.

   Yes, it was true.

   Sometimes he would be alone, a quiet moan.

   Then around 9, after a discussion of the Divine.

   He would go home.



     He would wait.



    He'd be back the next day, at the station he'd stay.

    It's true, that's what he would do.

    Day after day after day after day.

    You could bet your monthly pay.

    Reliable as a clock, the ship at the dock.

    This continued years fifteen.  

    No other place he would be seen.

    The tears, the fear, the pain, the trains.

    The rain, the snow.  No other place would he go.

    The trains would come and go.  He would change?  No.

  

      Then one day,

       everybody was shocked.

       They could all see with their eyes.

       On some, you could hear the cries.

       There was the guy, and beside him, another man walked.

       They walked and they talked.

       "My train came in."  He said with a grin.

       He gave a happy shout, and with his friend, walked out

       the door.

       Some people were on the floor.

      That was the end.

      He never came back.