Train One

by ianschimmelfennig

Even though you’d
think you wouldn’t,
you’ll probably write
a train poem. Tracks
are lost in the world.
Behind the factories
and stacked pallets, little league
never looked so big. The sun
seldom shines so brightly
as through a mild train’s
west windows. Now it’s gone.

Sail on, sail on, sail on.

Trouble far away, fear
all wrapped up in tin
spoiling. Did I meet you
on a train? Did I ever
move past that feeling, expecting
all the happy world to stop
and enjoy itself at once? Let go.
Smoke two. Really take your time
and avoid, as best you can, demanding it.
There are plenty of “fly away
shuttles,” there is always
shuffle board.

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