
the train in distance calls
with faint whistle as it nears
the last street.
it calls, calls, calls,
its warning
as words of prophet:
beware the ides of…
march! march! march!
it seems to stretch toward
eternity, its cars endless,
click, click, click across
the track,
counting time.
it seems to create
its own cadence,
march! march! march!
it rides to war.
it is its own master.
share your wisdom
with us all!
it will not add a word.
march! march! march!
a thousand freight cars
pass,
endless…
they carry
the dead
of other places
and centuries.
march! march! march!
a thousand freight cars
pass,
endless…
Eric M. Vogt, Copyright 2013
THANKS FOR THE CHALLENGE, THE SUNDAY WHIRL! http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2013/03/16/wordle-100-a-bakers-dozen/















brenda w
/ March 16, 2013The repetition adds a cadence that I love. There is an ominous presence to trains, that your piece sheds light on. Well done.
Eric
/ March 16, 2013Thank you, Brenda!