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Rated: E · Poetry · History · #2108544
A rewrite of an old poem of mine
This piece was originally written back in 1996, after an evocative ride on a train in Japan. It was originally much longer; but I feel, upon review, that it was far too long. The imagery was intended to be driven by a chug-chug cadence to the words, which the reader may notice in the first three lines of each stanza.
Steel rail, straight through
Badlands and empty fields
Run down ghost town
Sandman and shadow skip this place

No-light waymeet
Cross-roads and locked doors
Gray-sky cold wind
Blowing leaves forgotten by the rake

Road house distant
Fenced-off silence
Steel wind, lone soul
She shivers while she’s tugging at her coat

Row house, tight packed
Slumped fence and sulking swing
No hand no face
Blinded eyes, no window left un-broke

Cold steel, red rust
Empty stile, next stop: ago
Warped-board foot rails
Nothing but a broken town for miles

Black hair, eyes down
How late has her train become
Old line long time
Since anyone came looking for a ride

Black night, gold globe
All aboard, they’re pulling out
Dark hair, sad eyes
Waiting for her wartime ghost, perhaps

Night train, old love
Vacant streets, forgotten maid
One tear--my tear,
Am I her broken savior come at last?

Clocks spun, mouths moved
No one saw her, plain as day
And yet, not so
Behind and through, I see the burned-out booths

Head tilts, eyes raise
Platform lady, why see me
Please go, find peace
Mine is not the soul to haunt for truth

    And the cold and the clouds press close
    I pause just once and turn around
    No trace of the woman
    There’s nothing left to see

    Just the clouds, pressing cold and close
    No snow or sun, just grey and brown
        And the faintest yellow
            Where the gate used to be
© Copyright 2017 Boulden Shade (fka Jeff Meyer) (centurymeyer35 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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