The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature

Paul Owen: Railroad Tracks

Poetry

Railroad Tracks

It calls to me as I walk and smoke
Seeking comfort from my Marlboro cigarettes
Lost in my thoughts
Hiding from the office and the busyness of life
The air crisp and clean with the melancholy of another fading fall
Gravel crunching beneath my feet
As I wander down the path near lazy river’s edge.

An old railroad track still used
Halting traffic now and then
In the quaint town of Black Mountain
Where an old train station still sits
Now haunted by ghosts, tourists and curious guests.

What mystery lies along its woven path
Through smoky mountains and distant valleys far
When now lost beasts roamed these forests
Wandered the trails
Through which man’s progress made its way
More than a century ago?

Why the sound that reaches me
From engine, tracks and steel
Like long lost love or distant kin
Haunts me very deep within
My soul and makes me feel
A sadness and nostalgic wish
For days that are now past?

I am not sure but I do wish
That it would only last
Long enough to reconnect
My contact with the past.