At the far end of our yard,
a
chain link fence
Scaled by errant morning
Then rumble long after we’d picked up
The dolls and games and crayons
We’d put aside to watch
The length of them pass.
One day, a train didn’t pass, but stopped.
One car filled the whole space between the trees.
It just sat there,
We looked for it,
Then at each other,
Then looked for it again.
And when we couldn't decide
What to play,
We went inside earlier than usual
Scaled by errant morning
glories.
Beyond it, a no man’s land
Strewn with crushed beer
cans that glinted in the
Beyond it, a no man’s land
Strewn with crushed beer
cans that glinted in the
sun.
Then, the lake that shared
its name with our street.
Then, the lake that shared
its name with our street.
On the lake’s far shore,
A weave of pruned firs and
A weave of pruned firs and
power
lines
That opened just wide enough to
That opened just wide enough to
admit a further view.
And while we couldn’t see the train tracks
And while we couldn’t see the train tracks
That nearly grazed the lake’s far
edge,
We could always hear the low vibrations of trains
Long before they came into view--
Even when the kids taking sailing lessons
Called loud from boat to boat.
Always we hoped for freight trains
That would flash and click, flash
and click,We could always hear the low vibrations of trains
Long before they came into view--
Even when the kids taking sailing lessons
Called loud from boat to boat.
Always we hoped for freight trains
Then rumble long after we’d picked up
The dolls and games and crayons
We’d put aside to watch
The length of them pass.
One day, a train didn’t pass, but stopped.
One car filled the whole space between the trees.
It just sat there,
Sizzling in the thick summer heat,
Sometimes hissing, maybe exhaling,
Definitely baking.
We’d had a babysitter who’d told us about trains
That took kids from their parents,
Some to the country so they wouldn’t die,
Some to the country so they would.
So when kids’ voices pierced
Late afternoon’s muffling heat,
We wondered if they were coming
From that listless train car,
Or from the dock where kids were lowering sails
Before heading home for supper.
“Come on in. It’s time to eat,” called a voice we knew.
And so we obeyed.
Later, when we went out
Sometimes hissing, maybe exhaling,
Definitely baking.
We’d had a babysitter who’d told us about trains
That took kids from their parents,
Some to the country so they wouldn’t die,
Some to the country so they would.
So when kids’ voices pierced
Late afternoon’s muffling heat,
We wondered if they were coming
From that listless train car,
Or from the dock where kids were lowering sails
Before heading home for supper.
“Come on in. It’s time to eat,” called a voice we knew.
And so we obeyed.
again,
The train was gone.
It must have slipped away
During dinner’s clatter and
The train was gone.
It must have slipped away
During dinner’s clatter and
talk,
Though we'd finally made it
Though we'd finally made it
ours .
We looked for it,
Then at each other,
Then looked for it again.
And when we couldn't decide
What to play,
We went inside earlier than usual
And didn't argue about going to bed.
* First photo: De, T. (2016, September 10). Ranch ups and downs [Web log post]. Retrieved February 07, 2018, from http://tilluride.com/blog3/2016/09/20/ranch-ups-and-downs/ Photograph URL: http://tilluride.com/blog3/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/Morning-Glories-A-Fence-Full.jpg
** Second photo: screen shot of http://www.stevewyant.net/jpg_slides/sc_0016a.jpg
*** Third photo: Screen shot of https://i.pinimg.com/236x/c1/8c/99/c18c99b6d6a9685296afa5cdb1c77787--my-images-lakes.jpg
