Train (Revised)

 Metal against steel.
Fiery carbon, for tracks, hot rolled.
That distant bolt of light, spreads it's blinding sheath, on it's horizontal climb.
It's far-off whistle, becomes a horn, nearer now.
Sudden turns, are negotiation.
Rumbling becomes rhythm....an axel, hitting it's stride.
A fire bellows, at "her" base....
Swelled metal hips.... swaying....
The night sky, is turned grey, with determination.
Grinding to a stop....
The air is acrid with exhaust....but "she" untired.