The Lonesome Train Whistle

A moment of sweet reflection came to me – just wanted to share it with you.

My wonderful grandfather was a section foreman on the Louisville and Nashville Railroad line. In youth I lived for awhile in the old gray two-story section house with my grandparents. The house was no more than a hundred yards from the railroad tracks. Lying in bed each night as the train whistle blew in the distance, my mind would consider where it could be my life was leading me.

The sound of the train whistle has always brought to me an inscrutable soft sadness.

Hope you enjoy the reflection…

The Lonesome Train Whistle

 

It always came during the night

as mind was most vulnerable,

as fancy replaced reality.

It came and brought tears

of truths that were days

of poignant youth.

It came whispering of all

dreams yet possible to heal

pangs of longing.

It came on evening’s air,

took me to a place

ordained for me to go.

Its long mournful wail

lingered long and tender

like a mother’s feathery kiss.

The sound echoed long, its final

note lost in space

not known by me,

And my days would be softly

blessed in the verity

of those splendid sounds,

That, indeed, life was yet

to be out there on the

lonesome train’s whistle.

BRC – 12/12/2003

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