The Train

The Train

The train speeds through the empty night
Casting shadows with its light
At each crossing on the way
Its horn again has things to say

Two longs and then a pause
One short as it forestalls
A final long for emphasis
Triumphal blast, a synthesis

A signature for engineer
In ways the sound falls on the ear.
The train speeds on relentlessly
Its sleepers deep in dreams may be

The train shuffles, is something wrong?
I check outside; we speed along
Silent snow under peaceful moon
Everything seems to be in tune.

Nothing wrong, nothing amiss
Tracks sometimes rough, I guess.
The train rocks softly from side to side
Back to sleep. Enjoy the ride.