The Iron Horse Whispers

 

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I was blessed to live in the

time of trains:

dark diesel dinosaurs lumbering

across my summer nights

where the whisper of their passing

winds in through my open window

like a silken ribbon tying up

my past and present.

Their vibration so faint

I strain to catch the fragrant sound

and in the darkening stillness

accept the gifts they bring of

memory and peace.

 

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Author: jet197

A Spanish speaking elementary resource teacher, single mom with two grown kids and a pasión for the outdoors and books. I am a big curious question mark always pondering with a penchant for poetry.

8 thoughts on “The Iron Horse Whispers”

  1. Beautiful imagery! Twice in my life, I’ve lived near train tracks. You’d think it was annoying, but it actually can be quite comforting. Must be something about the predictability…

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  2. Amazing! Your poem brings me right back to my grandparents’ house … staying there in the summer, hot summer nights with windows open, hearing the lull of the train pass by. Just beautiful. So happy you wrote today!

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    1. Thank you Michelle! I loved your comment. I was considering also writing about staying in my grandparents house in Ft. Thomas, Kentucky and listening to the gentle swish of the car tires passing on the pavement. It was magical and that sound always takes me right back. I love it!

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