Trains
1
In the marrowbone of night,
your song parts the fog.
I never knew the secrets entrusted there.
I never knew that cinders and steel
could lie so passionately
and still believe that the watchman’s hours
would evaporate and leave us scratching for more.
I have stolen time.
The windows remain closed and shuttered.
Even the wind turns away.
The track narrows.
You call.
Again.
2
Sometimes song seems the only respite,
the rhythm of clashing cars
and moments stretched beyond the next bend
to that point where light winks out.
We both know this lonely tunnel.
Payment is due.
I have always exited alone.
3
Another evening, and red smoke completes the horizon.
Your ribs stretch for distance,
and while I cannot see their end,
I know by sound
their lot.
Sing for me.
It is not
too close.
“Trains” was originally published in Lightning’d Press (Issue 8) in Spring of 2014, was reprinted on Aubade Rising in April, 2015, and was posted here in June 2016. It is also included in my chapbook, If Your Matter Could Reform.
O at the Edges 
Three that sing
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Thanks very much, Derrick.
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Wonderful – curious about “payment due” – but still chewing – and love the “ribs” choose of word – this is wonderful
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Thanks, Yvette. The opening line popped into my head one evening while driving home from our rural property. I don’t recall why I was thinking of trains. 🙂
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Oh that is interesting – and another example of how words and phrases find writers as they go about life!
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I welcome them upon arrival!
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😉
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And topics!
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Oh, yes.
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🤔
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I felt the unending rhythm of the train as your poem rolled along
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It’s all that rattling!
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Excellent!
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Thanks very much, Jon.
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Reblogged this on Orthometry.
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Thanks for reblogging!
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You are welcome!
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Nice – reminds me of the Robert Johnson song ‘Love In Vain’, later covered by the Rolling Stones.
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I love me some Robert Johnson!
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