Smokestack blasts and churning wheels
Spitting steam with screechy squeals
Followed by a roaring beast--
Rushing train was heading east.
Engineer would give a wave
When he saw the salute we gave;
Sometimes Brakeman tossed us gum
Or wrapped candy, on his run.
Diesels up front--three or more--
Pulled a long train, that’s for sure;
Now and then, for football games,
Were treated to some passenger trains.
Feeling a rumble through the floor,
Hearing the rattle of our front door,
Or a blare of whistles-- always four,
Recalls passing trains of yore.
first published in Small Brushes
©2001 Bonnie Manion