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“Daddy . . . " he never saw a puff of smoke, a train cloud, or heard the drumming with the metal wheels, the chuck-a-chuck-a-chuck-a-chuck-a-chuck-a-chuck coming towards you, going away from you, but I did, and I didn’t feel privileged to see it, hear it, but my boy would give his right arm to see a genuine steam locomotive, grandly and slowly, cognizant of its moment, pulling into a station full of men, women, jaded, or worse, with somewhere to go or be dragged to, with their minds on something else, as my mind was and I would curse a life that makes it this way, that wasted that grandeur on the likes of me, and littered history with the unconscious chaff of the twister, when my boy would have responded to grace with grace, or ennobled my nothing with his something so I kiss his head and tell him, “it was a wonder to behold” as the whisper he doesn’t hear echoes fearfully in his old man’s caverns: there must be a god to correct the blind workings of history there must be a god, or these things that aren’t will never be right. |
Additional Notes:
Originally influenced (subconsciously) by JCH’s poem, “Train Stop,” and revised now that the influence of JCH’s poem is apparent to me.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Marcia L McCaslin On Date: 2014-09-26 09:49:01
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
I really like this for the way it makes me feel. I, too, was a part of the old trains, but you have made me look at them through new eyes,
and also realize that my children did not get to even see them, let alone appreciate them. Like you say, you think all this grandeur was wasted on the likes of you. I think it wasn't wasted, b/c a nostalgic poem came out of it which in the end might be far more enlightening to your boy. We don't know. I would have loved to have seen the Wright Brothers too, but had I been there, it might have been just a cold windy day with two ordinary kids down the lane. Your imagery is superb here. "whispers he doesn't hear echoes fearfully in his old man's caverns" best line IMO--and is the glue that holds the poem together. I saw a crash-landed B-29 during WWII that was the most thrilling experience, but my kids can watch the whole war on Youtube, and so does Time March On. Thanks for a good read & a trip down Philosophy Lane LOL.