Train Poem

I’m pulling away
from the platform.
Can’t say who’s
waving back there.

Freight today is antiques
and stopped watches. Can’t say
who’s getting them
at the end of the run.

The passengers sit in the second car
and play cards because they’ve seen all the movies
that said they should. Can’t say
who’s winning.

I’m smoking like a devil in hell
and missing every switch.
Forget what I left.
Can’t let a hand hold me.

Everyone’s hanging on for dear life
except the driver, the fireman, and the conductor.
They jumped off miles back. Can’t see anything
but straight on to where the view disappears.

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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