Trains, love them, hate them
the way they play sound; songs they sing.
Transformers switch, vibrate the power
into poetry, shake notes out of the sky.
Short stretch, street to street, long stretches,
Chicago, Elgin, Rockford, though prairie towns of Illinois-
running the same rails over, attached to many places.
Shrill sound of horns dig deep in bowel of urban earth
like backhoes; developers changing passing landscapes
with faint, greed filled faces.
As the trains pass to history, train sounds
fall silent, a minor key.
Submitted by: Michael Lee Johnson
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1 comment:
This is one of the up and coming poets of Illinois. You can find his work on Google all over the place. A must watch-his imagery is some of finest I've ever seen.
Bob Fizgerald
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