Poem: Night Train

Night Train

In the dark hours before midnight, the train whistles
and rumbles through the night, the sound
echoing across the valley, so loud and clear
that it seems to lie just outside your window.

It is only when the weather is about to change
that the sound is so very sharp and vibrant
that it causes you to look out at the starlit night,
the crescent moon and encroaching clouds and wonder

what sort of change might be coming.
Rain, cold and biting to the bone?
Or perhaps the unexpected warmth of Indian summer,
or the blustery wind that whips the leaves from the trees?

The train whistle does not answer.
"I am only the signal of change" it cries
as the brakes squeal against the steel tracks.
"Beware. And be joyful. Both."

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The picture was taken near Nace, Virginia. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom