Two Train Poems

Thrumming down the twin rails

Like a force of nature,

Pulling its multi-ton cargo 

In its wake,

Rushing through the crossing

With a roar and a clatter

Until finally the silence

Returns like a shroud,

And the bells toll to celebrate

The lifting of the gate.



A second's decision

And I turn on the opposing blinkers

And set out to stalk

My newest obsession.



We leave the county together

Bypassing the clear-cuts

And developements,

And lose one another

Behind stands of pines,

Until crossing the bridge

I see the engines

Once more.



Without multi-tons to haul

I am faster than they

And must stop by the y-turn

to await the slow goliath.



All other traffic

Rushes to the freeway,

So I am free when the rumble comes

To pace the stallion symbol 

To the foot of the mountain.



And after the bridge high above

The tracks disappear from sight,

And I must hunt blind.



Towards where the golden disc shall arise

I hunt blind.



When I find it,

I find it in magnificence-

The last meeting

Before Highway 78

Loses itself into I-20,

Where the iron road reappears

And in a sweeping arc

Climbs the stone pillars

High above the beds 

Of road and stream,

And the engines grind their way

Into the almost compleated dawn.


       ŠApril 30, 1998



Small hum and great roar,

How they are different, 

These two things of the same name.

One so small as to fit under a hood,

The second so massive

That the driver's cab

Seems only an attached afterthought.

Small hum and great roar;

One is sufficient 

To move a single car,

With maybe a trailor behind;

The other pulling many cars behind,

A mile of massive containers

And platforms.

Small hum and great roar;

One is older by nearly a century;

A century that stretches

From none to both.

Yet great roar is still imprisoned

Within twin metal rails,

While small hum may go where it will,

Willy-nilly,

As long as there's a mudless path

Between the trees.

Small hum and great roar;

From sunup to sunset

Through tall mountains

And barren deserts,

Through wastelands of cities

And banalities of farmland,

Racing the sun and each other 

Through starless nights

And moonlit clouds,

Racing the nation to sleep;

Big brother, little brother,

Small hum and great roar.


       ŠApril 30, 1998