TRAINS
I was raised on trains
My first two years
And learned to walk
To the sway and bounce
Of the railroad cars,
Chasing my father
From base to base
Across the war.
My childhood home
Was within the sound
Of the Doppler howl
Of diesel trains
Racing across
The lonely prairie
Through eerie night
Of small town '50s.
My present home
Is within the sound
Of the diesel trains
Of another town.
It's strange somehow
That through the storms
Of all these years
That brought us up
From cloth-winged planes
To space ship flights,
A child can still
Lie awake
In the eerie night
And hear the trains.
copyright Angela Parson Myers 2011
