Saturday, September 17, 2011

Night train

I lie in a bed of warm darkness,
hearing the wind with its errant keening,
seeking my soul as its helpmate.
The wind bows before the shrillness
of the whistle, punctuating the staccato
of metal wheel on metal rails, and
I am inside a boxed shape, rocking gently
to motion in moonlight, the wind racing
to keep pace as it washes the smells
of animals, hay, engine oil, unwashed bodies,
the bouquet I must carry to travel free,
unknown destination of no consequence.
The faint light passes over my hands;
my fingernails remain clean.

This poem is submitted to the “trains” prompt at dVerse Poets. To see more poems, please visit the site.
Night Train by Glynn2


Brian Miller said...

ha. nice...jumped a train in college...getting on was a lot easierthan getting off...nice capture of that bouquet of the open road as well...

Claudia said...

wow let us see and feel the thoughts of a stowaway...they are on trains and ships and all of them hope for a better future..

Anonymous said...

i hear the train at night, and yeah, it's easy to imagine what's going on on the train.

Anonymous said...

Wonderful poem of going without going anywhere -- wind and soul crossing the heart's interior. - Brendan

Arron Shilling said...

Hey Glynn this is very atmospheric and moody and really captures an imagined scene - very compact writing - clean structure packed full with plenty to enjoy

Anonymous said...

the dark mood of this piece grabbed me, and took me along...brilliant.

Anonymous said...

Way to use all the senses.

Scarlet said...

I like the warm darkness into the boxed shape.

These lines are great:

unknown destination of no consequence.

Tashtoo said...

Glynn, I absolutely adore how you finished this piece. I think the fact that your fingernails stayed clean speaks volumes to this wonderfully weaved work...and I think it's a brilliant finish! Loved it :)

Pat Hatt said...

Always thought it be fun to stowaway and just see where you would end up, very nice job delving into the stowaway, love the ending too.

Anonymous said...

that train
to that
unknown destination
or nothing
of our heart
we give

hedgewitch said...

Imagination is the best vehicle, and you put us in that swaying car, rocking in the night, just like an old train song. It's a classic theme, maybe even in our blood by now after so many years of locomotion. Feels that way in this poem, anyway.

Anonymous said...

A sensory treat... amazing ending.


Anonymous said...

nice piece and beautiful picture

Beachanny said...

I carry the Okie stories in my grandparents tales running alongside all my early travels. I knew their stories of trying to find a job by jumping a freight; in my youth, kids jumped trains in little towns to go see kids they'd met at ball games in the next town up or down the line and catch the last one home that night, or at first of next day, sleeping on a bench outside the station. Good times, I guess. Your poem (so good) made me think of that. The title reminded me of the late night (after 10:30) which we went to sleep to - they "dedicated" songs and that's how you found out who had crushes on who else. Here's the song..."Night Train"

Anonymous said...

I lie in a bed of warm darkness,
hearing the wind with its errant keening,
seeking my soul as its helpmate.

Your evocative opening lines really drew me in.

Patricia said...

the bouquet I must carry to travel free...
great description for the price you paid for that ride.
The last line grabbed me in the end, making me wonder if you just took us on a ride in your imagination. If so, I was there alright.
Thank you for your kind words re: unchained melody.

Geoff M. Pope said...

Sensational, Glynn. I especially like:

punctuating the staccato
of metal wheel[s?] on metal rails


motion in moonlight, the wind racing

-- and, as with several others here, that vivid ending.

lucychili said...

powerful poem, feels like struggle and freedom at once.

Unknown said...

Great piece, leaves such a linger. Particularly found myself attached to the finishing line. Lovely write ~ Rose

Louise Gallagher said...

Beautiful piece.

And as I was reading, I heard, in the distance, the toot of a train whistle.

I smiled.

How serendipitous.

I am reading Glynn's beautiful poetry about a train, and the wind is just right to carry the toot of the old steam train whistle from Heritage Park to me.

how delightful!

Unknown said...

Sometimes I want to jump a train just to see where it can take me. Perhaps we do it all the time anyway without even realizing it :)

ayala said...

I think we all have a dream of jumping a train to see where the open road may take us....the bouquet of the road and travel...alluring.

Anonymous said...

having the poem read
fills it out
brings it to life

nitewrit said...


You know what this reminds me of? A young man running off to join the circus, escaping responsibility perhaps, or seeking adventure, but in the end knowing he isn't really a part of that life.