Abandoned railway line 

Late Summer

.

It was a little past midnight, full moon spreading its
blue chalk light through the window. I was reading
a book on symbols, wanting to know what squirrels
represented, after finding the young one's fur and
skeleton in the yard Friday. The squirrel represents
fertility in Japan. In some parts of Scandinavia it's
a go-between fostering enmity between the eagle at
the top of the World Tree and Yggdrasil, the serpent
at the bottom. Odd what you feel when you empty
the feeding dish and water bowl of a creature that
is no longer alive, that the day before was so filled
with life. I noticed the raccoons had tilted over the
trash again, or was it a skunk? I swept it into a pile.
The reason I went outside in the first place is that I
thought I heard a train off in the distance, rumbling
and whistling down the abandoned Arbutus line.


It's a little after midnight
I thought I heard a train
It could have been the wind, I guess
There she blows again
Lately I've been hearing things
That sleepers never hear
The rusted axis of the earth
A creaking in my ear
I wonder if that train out there
Stops at any station
I see the unshaved engineer
In my imagination
An unlit smoke between his lips
The moonlight on his cheek
I wonder what he'd say to me
If he chose to speak

Raccoons took the trashcan down
There's litter in the lane
They didn't hear the creaking sound
They didn't hear the train
Just out looking for a meal
What silver they can find
Something they can chew upon
And something they can shine
Not one car out on the road
A lone cloud in the sky
Leaves are always first to know
When it's time to die
Before the wind can tear them loose
First they change to gold
Flames of red and amber burn
Before the fire goes cold

Remember when we used to raid
The gardens up the hill
These generations after mine
Come and raid them still
Eat the peas out of the pod
The apples from the tree
Muddy shoes and swear to God
Say Mom, it wasn't me
Then lay awake and listen to
The groan of attic beams
The house would drape its arm around
The shoulder of our dreams
It didn't use to be this way
The whistle blew for real
I'd listen to my sister pray
I never learned to kneel

The whisper in the cedar trees
The moonlight in the grass
There are so many nights like these
When nothing comes to pass
The wheel is creaking louder still
The world is slowing down
A train is lost behind the hill
And cannot find the town
As if there is no engineer
And no clear destination
None in charge of business here
And no one at the station
The wind is shining up the moon
There she blows again
Tomorrow will be coming soon
I swear I heard a train...

DL