The sound of a passing late night train
will forever be
dark blue invading the window
above the bed
sleepless nights framed in lace curtains
stars of a rural sky peaking through the sheer
the trains horn echoes fondness
summertime nostalgia in the form of a deafening blast
that house with all its scary places
dark corners strung in forgotten cobwebs
suddenly alive with juvenile laughter.
May 2005