A Train In The Night

Was it the rumbled cry

that echoed too much the owl

crying "who?" "Who are you?"

into the shadowed, moonless air;

Was it that the steel beams

groaning

wood creaking

beneath the weight

of cargo that must be carried

towards unmapped destinations -

too much to bear.

Perhaps it was because

I flipped the switch at the fork,

headed towards mountains

and rivers that beckoned

with open arms.

You took offence to my boom gates

never one to hold fast

to the ties.

My wheels will not screech

nor spark

I will chug along

without protest

towards a valley

that lies ahead

wide enough

for the whole of me to arrive.