I listen. The
distant pulse of the diesel’s roar
Precedes a rumbled earth that mimes a slight quake.
I steady myself.
My heart drums louder.
The air horn’s rhythmic blast signals
A crossing where red eyes flash,
Armed gates close, and bells send warnings.
I stop reading at once. The cacophony recedes.
My alarm subsides.
Back in time, the wheels clack.
Some days, my seat faced backward.
The window images retreated, instead of advancing.
Dizzy, but spellbound, I knew only what had passed
As I tunneled through the miles,
Not seeing where I was going,
Only where I had been.
Not seeing where I was going,
Only where I had been.
I look up.
The evening transit of an iron horse
Brings memories into the lamp light.
Shadows that journey into the present from the past
And carry me with them.
© cmheuer, 2016
