“We do not ride the railroad; it rides upon us.”

 
Where I was raised on the outskirts of life;  
on the edge of society.  
I could barely hear the whistle
late at night in the silence.  
I knew where the tracks lay,
and I wanted to be there so badly.  
I wanted to go where they traveled.  
 
20 years later  
as I lay 2 blocks away  
where  
a million ton train shook me awake -  
deep in the night  
downtown where I always wanted to be,
staring straight up at a high-rise.
 
Let me go back to asleep,
as I the ferryman trod there  
through mud,  
the ice and dismal materiel.  
 
Shadow shapes, and different  
expressions on each face  
I cannot recognize -  
as an owl, a fox, and things that  
love the darkness pass through me.