This Day
This day,
I feel the metal rails shiver,
hear a distant loco coming,
bound upon its fixed route.
I move on,
enter the scattered brush,
no need to turn around
to look at those many
freight containers rumbling by.
This day
I'm on a pathless journey,
my boxcar is empty, my cargo light.
The world crosses over me,
moves on.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2023
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