behind this fence
a playground off limits
the yard of a short line railroad
complete with lonely passenger cars…
when, if ever, do these cars carry people?
does the Buckingham Branch Railroad
use them only for private functions?
I travel through this yard by foot
in my inexorable imagination
where every door is open to me
and these cars an invitation to ride
at a leisurely pace with friendly people
verdant lands and tranquil waters on view
through clear windows while those inimitable
sounds of sibilant rhythms intrinsic to rail travel
rise through the swaying floor, pervading space
inviting sleep, accompanying conversations
while the landscape alone is enough
to occupy my traveling mind