My Love and I spoke loud, harsh words,
Then, stubborn as I tend to be,
So here I am, an angered man
This late at night, ‘tis mostly bare,
content to let my anger grow.
that overlooks an eerie scene
A graveled bed runs straight and true
A cold, pale glow, its source unknown,
My curiosity ablaze,
My closer look reveals the age
The rocks are worn, they're broken, cracked,
The railroad ties, of seasoned oak,
Cold iron makes the railway tracks,
With goosebumps rising on my arms,
It does, however, fit my mood
I notice, as I stand alone,
when suddenly that extra sense
a locomotive, belching soot,
All time condenses at that point,
I see so clear the ancient form,
and jolts me from my awe-struck daze,
A decade flying, so it seems;
The faces in the windows stare
I see in them the sadness that
yet never really felt in truth.
A lifetime full of sad regret,
The mournful stares of each full car
A sudden jolt as time returns
I lay there, gasping, thudding heart,
A slowly growing urgency
that all I said was said in haste,
into my boring, lonely life.
Now forty years have come and gone
TRAIN TO MIDNIGHT
So softly sighs the evening breeze,
it moans throughout the wood;
a lonely nightingale cries out,
my stormy thoughts intrude.
in truth, we had a fight.
We shouted long, and yet, what hurts:
deep down, I know she’s right.
I just could not admit
that I was wrong. And so I slammed
the door, and out I went.
out fuming in the dark.
Not caring where I went, I found
myself within the Park.
the pathways quiet, still,
which suits just fine my current mood.
I wander where I will,
And so, its with surprise
I find myself deep in the Park,
atop a little rise
that I’d not seen before
in all my sojourns through the Park;
brought forth from days of yore:
both to my left and right,
on top of which two iron rails
march on into the night.
illuminates this scene,
its silv’ry light emparts the leaves>
a strange and eery sheen.
our argument on hold,
I take a step along the path
to see what Fate doth hold.
and thorough lack of care
that’s gone into the maintenance;
not well have these tracks fared.
and overrun with moss,
between them sprout up thorny weeds
and var’ous other dross.
are riddled through and through
by termites, maggots, plain, old rot:
replacement’s overdue.
great stretches gone to rust.
It seems that if I dared to touch
in spots, t’would fall to dust!
I’m in a total bind:
no explanation for this place
comes readily to mind.
so well its quite unreal.
The spark of anger, fanned anew,
a burning fury feel.
that steadily the light
has grown, until it finally
has pushed away the night;
that comes and goes at will
flares up; I turn, and there behold,
so close, my sight it fills:
its single light ablaze,
its aura, an unearthly pale,
ensnares my wide-eyed gaze.
a second lasts a year
as slowly, inexorably
old Number Nine draws near:
straight out of Casey Jones.
It clatters roughly o’er the tracks,
the whistle sadly moans
that mind-benumbing sleep:
my body moves before my thoughts,
out of the way I leap!
the ghost-train passes by:
the soul-chilled near-miss brings the thought
that, if touched, I would die.
with mournful, longing eyes.
A life of opportunites,
of chances let slip by.
comes from lessons learned,
assuming that the folks that loved
would know their love returned,
The bitter, searing pain
of words that anger blurts in haste
e’re they can be contained.
of longing to redress
is passing ‘fore my very eyes,
in early ‘20’s dress.
strike deep into my soul.
The lessons that these shades impart
will never let me go.
back to reality;
my shoulder aches from landing hard,
but finally, I’m free!
and listen to the world,
recovering my senses as
horizon slowly twirls.
begins to fill my soul:
I have to get back to my Love,
I have to let her know
deep down, I did not mean
a word of what I said tonight,
return the joy she brings
There’s so much I must do!
My lease on life has been renewed,
and so, I must be true.
since I last saw that train;
although its not been easy since,
our Love o’ercomes the pain.
-Anonymous
