Sitting Backward

I am sitting facing backwards
The train,
Like a drunken ox
Galloping
Singularly
Pushes forward.
And the trees
From fear
Fade into the past.
…
My daughter’s two glass-like eyes
Still
Are watching from above
And the wave of her voice
Hints at the loneliness of the immigrant man!
Look,
She is still absorbed with the words of a book.
And my wife,
Sighs a sleep
Alas!