One Poem by Robina Rader

 

Trains in the Night

 

I love to hear trains in the night

The sound always carries me back

to a time and a place

long ago, far away

with switching yards earshot-close

 

After the bustle and chaos of day

And the noises of traffic and trade

Eased away, I could hear what was happening

Down in the Yards, where rail cars were constantly

Sorted and moved, to make up the trains to go out.

 

There was Lehigh coal for the steel mills,

Potatoes from Maine, fruit from the South

And boxcars marked with mysterious codes

Showing where they should go,

And what was inside,

 

When ready to move, in the era of steam

The first sounds were a slow chuff, chuff,

Getting louder and faster, until I could hear

the clank, and clank as the couplings engaged

and the clicking of wheels on the track

 

As the engine gained power and got under way

The noises comingled, began to recede  

At the first level crossing, the whistle was shrill

At the next it was fading, and fading,

Into distance and darkness and silence.

 

Now I miss that sequence, and all that it meant.

Switching is done by remote control,

Locomotives are diesel, efficient,

whistles lack that lonesome wail, and still –

I love to hear trains in the night.

By Robina Rader