STOPPING TRAINS, a Poem
The prairie yawned endless beige
undulating
soundless
entire--his
only world
consuming his tiny town,
a dot in the sea of whispering wheat
Every day
the train--
puffing snorting rumbling
the earth a wave of sound
in his feet
the smoke trailing,
black cinders spewing ,
slicing wheels showering sparks,
rush of wild hot air blazing his little face
loooong eerie wail
shuddering the sagging station
clackety clack, clackety clack, clackety clack
the caboose telescoping--
then gone
.
It never stopped
.
He stood in the wind-wash
and the fading roar
and willed the train to stop--
screwed his eyes tight and willed it to stop
In his heart he knew
if he could make it stop
magical tigers and gossamer faeries,
satin magicians and endless rivers of chocolate
would flow from its bright doors
and gloss the sameness forever.
It never stopped
.
Now he was a man.
The whispering prairie still stretched around the tiny town
and a purring silver train whisked past
every day
so silently
most people
didn't even notice him
standing in the shadow of the collapsed station,
eyes screwed tightly
shut.
© clark cook.