Smokestack blasts and churning wheels
Spitting steam with screechy squeals
Followed by a roaring beast--
Rushing train was heading east.
`Engineer would give a wave
When he saw the salute we gave;
Sometimes Brakeman tossed us gum
Or wrapped hard candy, on his run.
Diesels up front--three or more--
Pulled a long train, that’s for sure;
Now and then, for football games,
‘Were treated to some passenger trains.
Feeling a rumble through the floor,
Hearing the rattle of our front door,
Or blare of whistles-- always four,
Recalls the passing trains of yore.
first published in Small Brushes (Adept Press)
© 2001 Bonnie Manion