Monday, April 21, 2014



When my sibs and I were young,
We lived near the railroad tracks,
Always hearing the clickety-clacks
Of trains passing by and during days

We'd run down the street to watch
The flying by of a new Diesel powered engine,
Called The Streamliner with the steamless
Motor,  watching, thrilled beyond reason

To be seeing how fast it went
With never a hint
Of slowing down as it
Rounded curves with no intent

To stop until the engineer desired.
We'd stand there with mouths agog.
Hoping, wishing to catch sight
Of someone waving to us in the light

From a passenger car.
Alas. we waved in vain.
Until we could  hear no more
The long blast on its horn

As it blew for the crossing down the line.
Do you remember the days of the passenger
Train, passing through villages and towns,
When times were simpler all around?

I do!


Anonymous said...

I do indeed. My grandparents lived very near the tracks in Aurora Ontario. Another great peom.

Anonymous said...

that's poem....sheesh

Grammy said...

Thanks. :)

Kathleen Mueller said...

I used to lie in bed in the middle of the night when I was a kid, and listen to the train crossing our road about a block from our house. We lived in a suburb of Boston. I've returned recently and now the train track is paved over and they were supposed to make it into a bike trail, but never did. I still love the sound of a train off in the distance to this day.