must have chortled and chugged with life
compartments filled with fancy luggage
walls brimming with bawdy laughter
over after dinner drinks
and unfiltered cigarette smoke
How silent it sits now
on its piece of track to nowhere
retired to the woods, left behind
rotted siding like missing teeth
cataract clouded windows
rusty hinges, stiff and stuck
How expectant it seems up close
with that wheel in front that can still turn
the empty stove just waiting
for a shovelful of coal
and if only someone
would lay some track through that field
it would ride the rails right out of here
How the trees would cheer
how the bayberry bush would shiver with envy
No comments:
Post a Comment