At the reckoning, at something

Akin to a train terminal

From a 1951 British drama,

I, and all the rest

Whose train is about to leave,

Will be asked in a clipped

British accent, "Your destination?"

"One way to Brighton,"

That being a euphemism the ticket agent

Will readily understand.

In reality, it won't be Brighton,

But somewhere sun-drenched,

A waterfall, a meadow with wildflowers.

It might be something 

Yet to be imagined, or it might be

Quite the opposite. We stand in line,

Wait our turn, take our ticket,

Wait for the train silently, it wouldn't do

To speak to strangers, perhaps later.