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.