Red Line Train To Ashmont

I can see them shivering
the pain in their faces paints a perfect picture of the
bitter cold bite that February brings
I can see them wincing
the fear in their face as they stare out the window at the
frozen banks of the Charles
praying that the train never stops
I can hear them gasping
their lungs begging for air
I can hear them panting
like dogs in the park hoping today is the day
the squirrel will give in
I can hear them weezing
and I can hear
their bronchial tubes slowly swelling
on this sobering Sunday evening
and as I step off the train onto the platform I hear silence
and I smile