There’s one train in Cherrywood
a heaving, hooving hound
limping down its wild tracks
hacking blackened clouds

There’s one train in Cherrywood
the only in, the only out
a traveler of lands and time
wrought with smoky lungs and gout

There’s one train in Cherrywood
stuffed with heavy-headed spirits
sleeping off a dozen generations
of hiding from their dreams

There’s one train in Cherrywood
somewhere I have a ticket
buried in these crowded pockets
lost but farthest from forgotten