Van Gogh's Quiet Lines on the 716

I've been watching you since Stockton,
on through Denair, Merced, and Madera.
I've studied some of the quiet lines
that make up you. Sitting on your suitcase
waiting for the 716, reading
with your face in a scowl.
A strand of your hair falls,
and you make no effort to remove it.
Immersed in your reading you await
a revelation. "25 minutes to Fresno!"
I see the conductor remove the ticket
from your seat. As I approach you
this is what I finally say: "Pardon me,
but I would hate myself if I did not meet you."
You tell me that you have a boyfriend.
I say, "I'm not looking for a girlfriend,
but an intelligent conversation with an intelligent girl."
Epilogue: Still, fear kept me from that
possible encounter. I watched her walk off
that train to Fresno, leaving me with questions
of fate and divine appointment.