Trains

[gettincloser]

There are train tracks outside my window
and every night at ten o'clock
the train stops
it screams
to stop.

It blocks my way to work
back from work
I go around
take six more miles
and three more minutes
and wish I had left earlier.

That train is always there
when I need to pass.
It makes me go around
every time.

It stops me.

Sometimes I watch it
as it sits there
and I sit there waiting.

I guess I am waiting for it to start back up
for something to happen
for it to scream
and catapult itself forward.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

There are train tracks on the hill
outside my windows,
and when the train rolls in
it rattles the panes.
It screams
to stopping.
It groans
in agony.
It sighs
with relief.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

When my cousin was younger
when I was younger
when everyone was younger

he would stop his play
mute the television
furrow his little brow
anytime
he heard a train in the distance

he would turn to his mother
his father
and I,
and a grin would spread
across his chubby face
his perfect child teeth
pressed together so tightly
I thought sometimes he would break their enamel.

We'd leave the house
forget to lock the door
get in the car
and follow the distant wail.
When it would stop, we were silent with it
waiting for the signal.

We followed those trains for miles.
We'd find them on bridges,
race them from the road that ran parallel.
Sometimes we were stopped by them.
Sometimes we followed the sound
all the way to the train yard.

We'd pull in and watch the train rest.
We'd sit there for half an hour,
an hour,
two hours.
And my tiny cousin would just sit there
silently
and watch
stopped with the train.

And when we'd finally leave the train
he would wail like the train
from the pain of having to
go
all the time.