The Train
Each morning,
unless a coupling has slipped in Morganza, or
A hacker in St.
Louis has tampered with the switching computer,
The train blows
its whistle.
The whistle
blows uselessly around 4 a.m.
Because nothing
is moving at 4 a.m.
But it blows.
Once, twice, three times
It blows.
The whistle is
classic and loud.
If I were
asleep, it would not wake me, but
If I were awake
and groping to embrace my day,
The whistle
sounds thunderous, near, and comforting.
--April 14, 2013
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