Yes, the vanilla-flavored coffee
is superb–-smooth with easy sipping—
before night unveils a lightened sky.
Yes, the clear-note bird song
outside darkened windows delights.
But, oh, I suddenly lift my head
upon hearing something more.
Tilting my head, turning an ear
toward beauty outside in the dark,
turning an ear to beauty beyond sight,
I smile to self. Yes, the returning train.
My favorite conductor is here
moving e’er closer as seconds soar,
pushing forward on shaky tracks
rattling with rough-house rhythms.
Sounds from a charging train mesmerize.
I think this conductor is a train artist. Yes.
I listen to four quick-whistle shout outs
followed by four slow-motion squeals,
shrieks, high-pitched wails, traveling on tracks,
These cries to sky are as fast as lightning and
as slow as molasses-pours on breakfast pancakes.
Ah, the sounds in this train-track romp.
If sailing sounds were art on life’s canvas
as night releases its hold, the picture is priceless.
Blends from the brush of the harmonic colors soothe.
“Conductor, travel those tracks. Return. Play it again.”
Grateful I am for AM gifts— coffee, birdsong, best train.