Train calling in the night,lonely warning that it
cannot stop to visit,
no station here, no packed
bags in hands just
waiting to step on
amidst the fumes. It
continues on a route
it did not choose
but has to follow.
I would pack a bag
and hop aboard if
it would let me,
seeing where the route
would take me, calling
home to tell new stories
until time to blow the horn
myself, announcing
my return.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013
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