Railyards Passing By

Journeys delayed 
undertaken, tossed
past fields of weakness
past trestle stretch

Long past the hazel fields
with storage sheds of secrets
where cul-de-sacs dead end
full of empty fields

Glassy roof, volcano top
early whiskey with ginger-ale
forthrightly speed past
railyards of enterprise
waiting on a signal

Hard fought coincidence
leaving me on time
you’ve won the anecdotes
and left me the prize

Double-loaded dump truck
grey-blue against the green
spring fast jaded 
as though an accident,
mistaken incident of mine

Fresh grass growing
burst past the blackened mold
hay-bale cut for winter
first browned – forgotten and 
settled to waste

Along a hidden railway yard
seen flashing past,
maybe noticed by someone
who might live there 
or just be passing past –
not a stranger
just someone who doesn’t make it by
except when the train leaves or
the cherry blossoms bloom early,
perhaps only to confuse the birds

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