Midnight train barreling past
what once was oak and magnolia,
now a smattering of stumps, resigned,
drumming the regular (fog)horn
into the haze of passing time:
"I am coming.
I am going.
I will not stop."
I watch and wonder how I too
was so quick to yell "Timber!"
and fall onto the tracks.
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 2:23 AM UTC
Midnight train barreling past
what once was oak and magnolia,
now a smattering of stumps, resigned,
drumming the regular (fog)horn
into the haze of passing time:
"I am coming.
I am going.
I will not stop."
I watch and wonder how I too
was so quick to yell "Timber!"
and fall onto the tracks.
Quarantine is kicking my ***
Request permission to use this poem