"oxcart" poems
When the arc of his watch hands
reached the top of the hour
Sam pushed the throttle forward.
Engine 138 thundered
out of Blossburg station
like an iron dragon
breathing smoke and steam -
whistle shrilling over the Tioga valley.
Powered by coal
the train carried coal
to the waiting city of Elmira
where Sam would press his mother's hand -
perhaps for the final time.
The wheels churning iron on iron
across Pennsylvania farmlands,
turned like other wheels before
moving settlers west
to break its ready earth -
wheels beneath his grandfather's oxcart
turning toward Lycoming's verdant hills.
New wheels now carried America
to urban landscapes
drawing us like electro-magnets
to streetlamps - factories - dry good stores -
new crops for a modern age.
Elmira’s silhouette expanded on the horizon.
and Sam pulled the train in on time -
brakes screeching through billowing steam.
His wife, Jenny and his sister's Sam
came in a horseless carriage
with Zoe, Marie and Edward,
children now grown at their sides.
They all gathered by Hannah's bed
now approaching her final hours
soft voices and fragile smiles
cradled the truth beyond all telling:
Time, ever advancing
like the hands of a fine old watch,
holds us all in its circling sway
© 2006 by Robert Charles Howard
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 10:58 AM UTC
Cuba, where are your wings?
Have you lost your umph?
Coconuts, bananas and sugar cane,
all taken by the time you get there.
Where are the lines on the highway?
Simple lines which guide you.
An oxcart here, truck there, person in uniform, whoah.
Watch out, do not speak out,
do not look like you are full.
Confusion lurks in the dark.
The light is coming, it has to be coming, the matches are
in the next delivery, just wait...
wings and matches are coming.
Nov 25, 2009
Nov 25, 2009 at 8:57 AM UTC
When the hand of his timepiece
reached the top of the hour
Sam pushed the throttle forward.
Engine 138 thundered
out of Blossburg station
like an iron dragon
breathing smoke and steam –
it's whistle shrilling the Tioga valley.
Powered by coal
his train carried coal
to the shops and homes of Elmira
where Sam would press his mother’s hand –
perhaps for the final time.
The wheels, churned iron on iron,
across Pennsylvania farmland
just as yesterday’s wheels
moved his grandfather's oxcart
to their new family spread
alongside the Williamson road.
Newer wheels carry America
to urban landscapes
attracted like electro-magnets
to streetlamps – factories –
five and dime stores –
new crops for a modern age.
Elmira’s silhouette breached the horizon
and Sam pulled the train in on time -
brakes screeching through billowy steam.
His Jenny and his sister’s Sam
had come in a horseless carriage
with Zoe, Ed and Marie -
children now grown at their sides.
They all gathered to Hannah’s bed,
now approaching her final hours.
Soft voices and fragile smiles
cradled the truth beyond telling;
Time, ever advancing
like an ever-turning wheel
holds us all in its circling sway.
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 2:09 AM UTC