Thank you to Editor Sand Pilarski of The Piker Press for publishing my poem.
Photo Courtesy of Piker Press
Whistle and Clack
I love the sound of trains.
I imagine they carry away
all my sorrows;
the betrayals, lies, slights.
I imagine with every blow of the whistle
they pull out with my shadows.
I imagine as I hear the clackety-clack,
I gain strength and courage
to face today and new days to come.
Or, better yet,
I imagine they might carry me away,
because if I stay here,
history might repeat itself.
Either way,
I insist that I must think well
of those I used to know.
I imagine they carry away
all my sorrows;
the betrayals, lies, slights.
I imagine with every blow of the whistle
they pull out with my shadows.
I imagine as I hear the clackety-clack,
I gain strength and courage
to face today and new days to come.
Or, better yet,
I imagine they might carry me away,
because if I stay here,
history might repeat itself.
Either way,
I insist that I must think well
of those I used to know.
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