dreaming baby eighteen

i was riding second class youth eurail
amsterdam to geneva, two german
girls or silly women were sitting next to me
speaking to one another
giggling with furtive glances at me.
do you speak english? smile,
laugh, side to side nod no,
just a bit. oh.
i curled up in my space
a fetal position hands cupped to breast
content on my face sleep in my eye
shortly i awoke to hear snort snort stifle
why do you laugh? they reply,
blush of flirtation, you look like a
dreaming baby. slow bumpy
train ride, air so sweet.

(age 18, 1985)