Remembering Train and Boy

By
Don Thackrey
– September 1, 2009

 

[Nebraska, 1940]

 

Early like the dove he mourned at me,
The train that clacked through town three miles away
And wailed of sure-to-come catastrophe.

We will, he rued, derail, disperse, decay.
I shouted answers, childish long Haloooos,
To show I heeded him about doomsday.

At five miles out, he sounded fading Woooos
In gratitude that I had felt his freight
And listened to him chuff his woeful news.

I watched and hoped I could someday translate
Those distant puffs of code my friend was blowing
That hinted train and boy must share one fate:

We don’t control our coming or our going;       
Some higher locomotive does the towing.

 

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About Don Thackrey

Don Thackrey spent his formative years on farms and ranches in the Nebraska Sandhills. He now lives in Dexter, Michigan, where he is retired from teaching and administering at the University of Michigan. During his university career, he published prose, including a book on Emily Dickinson, but only recently began submitting verse for publication. His verse has appeared in The Raintown Review, Poet Lore, Blue Unicorn, The New Formalist, The Deronda Review, The Lyric, Slant, Lucid Rhythms, and other journals and anthologies.