The Train Races

The train races; the smoke rises

The train races; the whistle blows

The train races; the smoke rises

The train races; it calls out to me

Where it is leading, I do not know,

Perhaps into the stars,

Burning forever bright.

Perhaps under the ocean,

Deep as the color of your eyes.

Does it follow a trail of broken hearts?

Or maybe puddles of fallen tears?

The train races

The smoke rises

The whistle blows

And it calls to me

But I turn my back on it.

I’m following your path of

Battered footprints.

Where it is leading, I do not know.

But maybe one day I’ll catch up.

And we’ll be together again.