Sometimes the sunset wheels
Of the empty train roll slowly
As a harmonica song-
Lilting us backward in
A summer sonnet
Of lavender fields-
Yellow bonnets, busy farmers.
Our tall engine steaming through
The country shadows
Of wooden swings and fishing ponds.
Cotton dresses and double moonshine,
Broken porches and hungry cows.
We see blue jays out
The windows now-
And kites in every tree.
And- I think if we go fast enough
We, too, will all be free…
Anastasia Clark
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-empty-train/
