The Tracks Will Switch
This last ride almost over,
the train coming to a stop
The mighty engine slowing down,
my ticket punched and clocked
With words I left untendered,
in towns along the tracks
My thoughts there drift upon the wind,
my legacy attached
This journey seemed redundant,
the scenery looked the same
But voices never heard before,
cry out and call my name
The conductor gives fair warning,
his face I know so well
“A turnout waits, the tracks will switch,
to heaven—or to hell”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)
Copyright © Kurt Philip Behm | Year Posted 2017
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