Daylight looms
And the treetops shiver,
And on this breath
Rides a distant quiver.
The brightening skies
Lend to red,
As the rattling leaves
Float down to bed.
The whistle’s call,
Rising on the breeze,
Carries with it
A melancholy tease.
And the forest’s frame
Takes on to yellow.
Against a backdrop,
Increasingly mellow.
The rumble is here,
And through the ground
The rolling steel
Begins to pound.
The light of day
Is, too, quite near
As the screech and shudder
Reaches my ear.
Noise and commotion
Are all about
And the branches wave
And toss throughout.
And suddenly
The sounds abate,
Leaving a silence
In their wake.
Then, in that moment,
The sun’s return
Floods the land
With its brilliant burn.
ADF
October 26, 2022
Lovely poetry xxx enjoyed that x
ReplyDeleteThank you, String! I enjoyed creating it (while still in bed), as I watched dawn unfold and hearing the train's whistle carried to me on the wind xx
DeleteThat is lovely, Dale. So evocative of the growing roar of an approaching train and then the hushed stillness when it’s gone again. Love it! Oceans of love, my dear.
ReplyDeleteThanks Val, I love trains!
DeleteWhen I lived in Canmore, we did a lot of riding along the railroad allowance, as a handy way of reaching town and some of the trails on the other side of the Bow Valley. I'm sure the train engineers got used to seeing us, and would wave and ring their little bell in greeting as they roared by. Where I live now, the tracks are across the lake and the sounds are more distant and change with the wind direction and weather. My office window still rattles when the trains rumble through.
Mountains of love back! xx
Lovely memories, Dale. I love trains as well.
Delete