the goodbye train

the goodbye train

A Poem by Daniel Atkinson

the dying train bleats a farewell
farewell to the weedy tracks that trail its rusted hulk
farewell to the small town down south
with its crooked cops and bars that stink of old beer
and the bum that wished the dying train would take him anywhere
as it lumbered and chortled past on a hot day in june
it bleats a farewell to the love that was
the love
the love
that glowed so warm when the coals were just right
that held and kept
that stayed, that stayed
the love that would never end
until it did.

goodbye town and goodbye bum.
goodbye love and goodbye home.

© 2018 Daniel Atkinson

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This is very good and captures much about trains and their mystique. It seems you might be describing my small southern hometown where weeds grow over the tracks and the lonesome whistle is no longer heard. No hobo's either.

Posted 1 Year Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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1 Review
Added on February 25, 2018
Last Updated on February 25, 2018


Daniel Atkinson
Daniel Atkinson

Atlanta, GA

"it's so easy to be a poet and so hard to be a man." -Bukowski more..