Vilmos Zoltan Galyo Poet Free verse

Little Train

A Little Train

Train, the train of my home, home of my heart, childhood, past
Past, yes, but lives. Hmm, yes, so good to travel here, and live
Live this air, this life, this feeling, this atmosphere, loved desire

I will come back again, I want to greet everybody here again
The people, the conductors and conductresses, and the neighbours
Shop assistants, waitresses, shops, pubs, and all the stations

All the roads, ways, trees, everything. Good to live in my living heart
This is the best feeling in this superb mind; this is not part of a country.
A country that is everything. Only one. Here is my mini farm. Live here

Live here, a secret mind. He has passed away, but he is always calling
Calling his memory my literature teacher, the grand soul of this land
Good to remember him, master of literature, hmm, why has he gone?

Little train, little train
Train of tales
From past
Help to live
Again
The
Lost
Friends
And past

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

sara Etgen-Baker September 27, 2025 at 4:55 PM what a poignant poem about what is probably an influential literature teacher. I had a couple of my own; I presume they, too, have passed by now...then I became one of those lit teachers...ahh, the literary cycle :-)