The Train’s Song
Long, long, short, long
the train’s lonely horn sings
take me where I belong
she’s red lights in the distance, gone
although the rails still ring
long, long, short, long
a light appears before dawn
don’t need to pack my things
take me where I belong
Engineer, play that steel song
sound your call for the crossing
long, long, short, long
the rails are true and strong
clack of wheels and sigh of springs
take me where I belong
no direction, but at least I’m on
the space between beginnings
is long, long, short, long
take me where I belong
2 comments:
I love what you do. Poetry escapes me. I love to read it, but feel so tentative and terrified about writing my own. You rock, and not just with the guitar.
Poetry escapes you... It comes out of me, too. I just try to write it down before it gets too far away.
Who's on your desert-island poets' list?
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