Thursday, December 16, 2010

as if she were

it should be enough
I suppose
to just see her there just
resting upon the tracks

to wonder
where she's been
and the snows
she's woken into shattered clouds

looking to the shattered window
and why is it always so?
i see men
who played her throttle
and more feared the brake

i see smoke through her hills
and wheels trailing grease
while bums raced and
reached for her doors

it's as if she were
yet alive
if only my eyes
could breathe

and if she were parked
at Miller's crossing
where never I care to go
or hidden at the bottom
of Whiskey River
where catfish would spawn
in her iron

would even i notice
the barren tracks
on which she played

it should be enough
i suppose
to see her there
and know she ran
the fields of my seasons
and carried my dreams
of departure

but seeing isn't enough
so I cross the fence
bramble my pants
and scramble the rock
just to feel her heat
once more

my hands caress
her weather-battered wood,
my eyes breathe again
the screech of her iron
and for a moment beyond time
it's as if
she were again
a cloud of wish
in the hillside of hope
my dreams of departure