The Birth and Death of an Engineer
An engineer's uniform
sparked a child's imagination,
and, one strange and early morn,
he was in a railway station.
An old man lost in reverie,
couldn't begin to understand.
His cloudy eyes could barely see
a young lad's outstretched hand.
There, beneath a station clock,
by knobby cane, supported,
all choked up, he couldn't talk -
how was he here transported?
His railway watch, long unused,
hung from a chain of gold.
Thro' stained-glass windows' light diffused,
he saw a palm outstretched to hold.
Then, like a railroad car on a mobius strip,
a child woke up from a mystic dream,
as an old man dropped in the child's grip,
a watch, and vanished, dead, like steam.
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