The Train

The sun pours orange
into evening’s waiting cup.
The day, boiled away,
walking home it’s finished up.
Familiar path along the tracks,
familiar feeling in its wake,
the train shrieks again
and cuts the crumbly haze.

City’s longest stretch
with an unobstructed view:
canyon carved, the way large
that the beast may rumble through.
Bouncing beam, a brightness seen
as well as felt within the soul.
The train shrieks again
and the air shivers cold.

How many years has it been this way,
walking to work, day after day?
Turning the collar to some foreign freight
that raises up dirt and makes the ground quake?

The light waves worn,
from the monster’s only eye.
Deep breath! Step left!
And the cyclops sizzles by.
Happiness’ path along the tracks,
just a matter of attitude.
The train shrieks again,
and another day concludes.

*To my father, in respect and love, for great persistence and heart.

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