NORTHBOUND TRAIN
A highway runs
near a quiet park.
The night is cool.
The sky is dark.
The swings cast shadows
on the grass,
that creep across
a lake of glass.
Coming across the field fast –
In the blink of an eye,
it’s already passed.
Merely a trick, of the light
but I knew in my heart
that couldn’t be right.
What I had seen,
was a northbound train,
where the old north tracks
went to rust in the rain.
I wondered then
if it would fly
across the fallen trestle.
Like a haunted clipper ship;
some wraith’s unearthly vessel.
Can it be that such things,
have ghosts at their helms,
or is time a mere wall,
a space between realms.