Early Train

South east of my bedroom,
four of five miles off,

trains from the yard
begin their journey.

Where to, I do not know.
These trains tear through

the blackblue mornings
screaming their typical

train sounds—wailing
whistles and wrenched

wheels grinding in
clattery harmony

against the rails.
Of all the fascinating

mechanical components
and historical uses of trains,

I remain ever curious
about their destinations.

 

—N.A.

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