Train Whistle Stop

The train whistle blew through crisp snowy streets.
Fresh powder dusted to the air with relief.
Please don’t stop the mournful cries; at eleven-thirty, I opened my eyes.
A smile seized upon my face; stress relieved without a trace.
How peaceful can this winter be?
I look upon the trees to see.
Tiny buds are giving a hint; nature shall change its robe again.
Yet perhaps I will miss the wail in the night.
It isn’t as crisp when the heat is right.
I will never forget one evening long past; there in the distance, a train traveled fast.
The roll of wheels and horn drove home that no matter the distance I’m never alone.
Please don’t stop the mournful song; let me travel through thought along.
For there beyond the tracks I see; a whisper, a hint of who I used to be.