The West Shore

Briefly echoed,
a growing refrain,
the distant howl of
a coming train.

It nestles in with
the sound of leaves
crashing together
in the midnight breeze.

I stand outside
my Hillview home
wondering why
my spirits roam.

So late at night
no comfort in bed
I listen as the train
comes to a head.

The howl grows louder
as the train comes near
the clatter on the rails
becomes instantly clear.

It wanders by
so distant,
so near.
One other is awake
a West Shore Engineer.

He drives his train
through the hollow
I listen to its engine
continue to bellow.

Its howl and clatter
ease my mind's
restless chatter.
I then say to myself,
"nothing's the matter".

The howl becomes distant
as the train keeps rolling
I hear the leaves again
with the wind still growing.

The soothing sound
of a midnight train
has put an end to
my wide awake pain.

My eyes begin to close
as I turn for my door
I find myself
with a growing repose.

That train is now gone
no longer does it rail
they've pulled the tracks
bikes and joggers
now silently run its trail.

Yet its soothing howl
still haunts my soul
giving me strength
making me whole.

Whenever I'm troubled
I seek the past
of the West Shore Train
once riding its path.