When he got up that morning everything was different:
He enjoyed the bright spring day
But he did not realize it exactly, he just enjoyed it.
And walking down the street to the railroad station
Past magnolia trees with dying flowers like old socks
It was a long time since he had breathed so deeply.
Tears filled his eyes and it felt good
But he held them back
Because men didn't walk around crying in that town.
Waiting on the platform at the station
The fear came over him of something terrible about to happen:
The train was late and he recited the alphabet to keep hold.
And in its time it came screeching in
And as it went on making its usual stops,
People coming and going, telephone poles passing,
He hid his head behind a newspaper
More on contemporary American poet Edward Field on this page at poets.org (what an interesting life he's led in his 88 years!) or in this short NPR story (read and listen to it, because the texts are different and complementary, plus sample an excerpt of his memoir of Bohemian life in NYC, The Man Who Would Marry Susan Sontag...) or on his own website.
Here's an excerpt from another instantly accessible poem of his too. Good stuff, that.