Under a crisp February moon
From the crossing two miles north I hear
A freight train’s warning tone.
At home, I can quickly tell
Which way the wind is blowing
By how close the trains sound.
I wish I were so sure with people;
Sometimes the polar shift is only evident
When the room’s emptied and I’m alone.
©2004 John I. Blair
Images on my mind By Peg Jones
1 year ago