Echoes

There’s a big ol’ train a’rumblin’
down some distant track.
I hear its whistle blowing
and man, don’t that take me back!

I still can feel the tingle
of the night breeze on my skin
as it rolls in from the river,
slowly creepin’ in

And the scent of evening dew
perfumed by woodland flowers
still makes me catch my breath
— those were the wonder hours.

That lonesome whistle draws me  
to nights beneath the stars
where the sky went on forever,
the whole universe was ours!

Back where the lonely timber wolf
picked up that sad refrain,
with a haunting chorus all his own,
how it echoed with the train.

And when that fading whistle
resonates it’s last,
for one brief pause, I’m trapped
‘tween the present and the past. 


july 2005
©Janet Reid



 
Third Place Winner
Rhyming Poetry
18th Annual 
Timmins Daily Press Literary Awards
May 2006