Fingers on the rails can feel The pulse of steel and diesel engines, The muscle and sinew of a continent. Ten thousand horses throb the air And bear down on a mile of freight. It rolls by like thunder Under a clear blue sky, stirs the soul With memories of lonely whistles In the night, a desert wind, mystery lights; When little fingers at the open window First felt the pulse of steel and diesel, A few million miles ago.
For my father who loved trains from childhood and worked forty years on the railroad, traveling approximately five million miles by rail during his career.