Choo... choo...

There's something about trains:

The Build Up
Kings of Convenience

The build up lasted for days
lasted for weeks, lasted too long
our hero withdrew, when there was two
he could not choose one, so there was none

worn into the vaguely announced

the spinning top made a sound like a train across the valley
fading, oh so quiet but constant 'til it passed
over the ridge into the distances
written on your ticket to remind you where to stop
and when to get off

*****
And because I've been repeating my stories lately, here's a new re-hash.

Love Poem

Where the word complete is a couple
fingers hooked on each other;
where science can be manipulated

not to contradict romance: Love
is exclusive territory. Where
magnets and opposite poles

and iron filings like a mob ready to
separate from sand and sway
in the right direction, to prove

a magnetic field of two halves.

Today at the train station, two
lovers said goodbye over their cell
phones across the rails. He was going south,

she north. And even for that moment when the train
ripped the air between them,
a connection as good as technology can provide

was had. The rest of us stepped aboard
where we stood, watching the windows
unmoved by the pull of

lights racing the other direction.

*****

There's something about a steam engine, too. Bow.