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.
Train Whistle Stop
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You know I love trains. Cindy thank you my dear friend and poet
Larry, my friend, I love trains too. After I wrote this I realized that it has a much deeper meaning – for trains have been a part of my whole life, and the meaning and memories are different for each stage of my life.