Grand Island

Long coal trains will keep me here.
I'm at the crossing, watching loaded
Cars creep by on screeching wheels.
I cannot get to what I see beyond.
The cars, each piled up with memories,
And all are black, are blocking me,
And flashing signals tell me there
Is danger if I ever try to move ahead.
I don't. I stay. I blame the trains,
And turn to go back home, away
From wheels, but not the memories,
Away from signals, never far from
Fear.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 46 times
Written on 2010-07-15 at 00:31

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