In case you missed it this morning, I present the poem for today from The Writers Almanac. It was all I could do not to turn my car towards the train station instead of continuing on to work after I listened to it today.
The Sound of a Train
Even now, I hear one and I long to leave
without a suitcase or a plan; I want to step
onto the platform and reach for
the porter’s hand and buy a ticket
to some other life; I want to sit
in the big seats and watch fields
turn into rivers or cities. I want to eat
cake on the dining car’s
unsteady tablecloths, to sleep
while whole seasons
slip by. I want to be a passenger
again: a person who hears the name
of a place and stands up, a person
who steps into the steam of arrival.
I don't know what lies beyond the platform for each of you tonight. I hope it's something beautiful. Sweet dreams and happy weekend!
So beautiful, especially to those of us with ongoing wanderlust. Completely transported.
Equally beautiful and perfect photo to accompany the poem. Thank you for sharing.
Posted by: Barbara Casillas | 07/11/2015 at 01:02 AM
You couldn't have posted any poem more dear to my heart than trains. I used to be in bed at night when I would hear the sound of the train whistle and imagine in my little 5 yr. old mind, taking off somewhere on the train. Then I had the adventure of my life when I travelled from St. Louis to San Diego on the train with my Grands. The memory, smell, sounds of that trip are deeply etched in my memory. I so wish trains were the common mode of travel.
Thank you for a poem I'll save to my little book of favorite poems. How I wish I was stepping into the arrival!
Posted by: Joan | 07/11/2015 at 05:38 PM
Bewitching. I hear a whistle in the distance....
Posted by: loretta | 07/12/2015 at 12:51 PM
Perfect.
Posted by: Leslie J. Moran | 07/13/2015 at 11:12 PM