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Frances May 2018
Today is a day of travel
Late for the first train
Early morning marvels
We're lucky there isn't rain

With you I needn't strain
My love and I
Oh my sweet Samuel
I can't wait to see how far we can go

Our first big trip
Together we'll see
Milwaukee to Chicago

Where the wind hymns
Through the concrete redwoods
Sheds infectious excitement
The buzz of an infrastructure hive
To pulse through every scurrying limb

With beating darting glossy eyes
Where necks crane concave
To gaze upon the monuments
The statues
The striking glory of an architectural revolution

This train, ridden in adult hood
Is still reminiscent of my youngest days
Where curly golden locks
Oshkosh b'gosh overalls
And fists the size of a common house mouse

Dutifully and loyaly gripped
The softly sanded wooden train whistle
Galloping around my grandparents
Gently cooing to the moon and sun
Until my little lungs couldn't blow any more

This trains horn is more authoritative
It asks us to hurry or watch out
But inside the car it's only a lullaby
a benevolent force
All red, blue and silver
Glistening upon arrival and exit

These metal cans have long windows
Stretching from seat to sea to forest through the trees
Children's faces adhear to it
wide eyed and chin dropped  
As we pass swiftly and smoothly

The lush verdure and crushing azure
Of the Midwest's rolling glacial fields
All transient and ghostly passing through

Farther though as close as could be
An unseen body and lonesome forearm
Reveals itself from behind the curtain seat

One finger hold a golden wedding ring
This halo he wears or it wears him ever so perfectly
Only slightly indented upon his golden hued skin
His wrist watch is of the like
Shows 11:45 upside down to mine eyes

— The End —