All Aboard

Memories as sharp as diamonds, 
keen as knives, the smell of 
train smoke burns their nostrils still. 

Chilly mornings, misty, magic, 
gleaming rails so full of promise, 
lumbering Leviathans, 

wheezing, roaring, bound for Scotland 
or the local seaside towns, 
vacationers anticipating. 

Dewdrops glisten, hush and listen 
for the storied 8:09, 
ready with their pens and journals. 

Now steam and smoke are gone 
along with locomotives' potent majesty, 
would-be engineers who once were young,
with memories as keen and sharp as diamonds.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Rigoler Avatar
May 19, 2016 at 3:01 PM
Alovely semantic journey down memory lane, Keith. I am putting finishing touches on a book based on the New England i knew as a boy some 70 years ago. Little of that New England is left now. Many thanks for stopping by. Always appreciated. Best to you in all your writing endeavors / M
Bickerstaffe Avatar
May 19, 2016 at 3:38 PM
...and good luck with your new New England retrospective... Best wishes, Keith
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