The dusty caboose
of my fourth decade
lumbers closer, closer.
Hobo instincts flutter.
Pack light. Jog alongside.
Jump aboard. Stow away.
Still. Stillness in motion.

I resist; the urge subsides.
The caboose rumbles past.
Silence. Solitude.

(… from Midlife Crisis Averted Postponed. 40×41: Midlife Crisis Postponed)