December 5, 2008

My Train

by Paul David Thomas

My train to nowhere
loaded with empty luggage
and empty dreams
and streams of sleeper cars
empty of weary children.
Steam engine fueled by thoughts,
a ticket bought at empty station.
Ride, ride the ghost’s track.

A city’s creation--villains and thieves.
The day is always through the next tunnel,
but even the best runner cannot escape the night
that will not wait for late arrivals,
that will not wait to take your ticket

or throw you off at the next stop.
The vacant seats grow weary
and weeping trees lament the night.
Bottles of liquor drink themselves
and crystal wine glasses fall from lonely shelves,
and no one else,
left to call the destination.

My train to nowhere,
loaded with empty dreams
and screams from the Boxcar Children
orphaned in the dining car.
Virgin spirits drift,
and abandoned newspapers
waver in cold despair.

My train to nowhere
loaded with empty mysteries
and a city’s empty dream.

*Paul David Thomas at MySpace:


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