Cinders and broken glass.
Warm engines blowing smoke.
Old men with hats, suspenders,
stained work boots and pants.
Great stories of Louisiana bayous,
marshlands, mountains and oceans.
Empty freight cars transporting
lost souls and homeless dreams.
Wooden platforms, benches carved
with names. Trackside families.
Steady work. Scars and sweat.
Creosote and oil, steel and shovels,
the tissue that connects.
A whistle in the distance,
Train of thought, recalled from rails; wistful whistle stops stay the passage of time. – mh clay