Poetry Month Day 27 – They say (it sounds like a train)

They say

It sounds like a train
in the same way unfamiliar meat tastes like chicken
the familiar- yet not – sound fills the sky
that just moments before was eerily silent
perhaps pierced by sirens
or maybe muffled a bit by surrounding rain

the clouds are eerie
all swirly and lumpy the way Van Gogh saw the sky
only green and forboding
unnaturally low overhead and on the horizon
undulating as if pregnant with angry energy
that escapes in hissing rain or lightning

it sounds like a train
the metal cars groaning and popping
and wheels squealing as they grind into the tracks
the engine’s low thrum
and the whistle stuck in the open position

a train would be more welcome
than wind whirling in a tantrum
raging out of control with no one to soothe it
shoving mailboxes and cars about like toys
kicking over houses like sand castles on a beach
the pleas and cries of those in its path
mixing with the twisting metal and splintering wood

It sounds like a train
pulling away from the station, an occasional horn blast drifting back
easy enough to follow its path of destruction,
small random gaps of wholeness
too rare in utter chaos
and no straight lines to the future

>If you can, please support a relief charity- my favorites are Presbyterian Disaster Assistance (often the first feet on the ground) and ELCA Disaster Response.  Both have much lower overhead than Red Cross and others.

Posted with prayers for those still in harm’s way, those who escaped with no loss, those who escaped having lost all.  For those who have lost family or friends, pets cherished keepsakes, homes and cars. For those who are on their way even now to restore power, provide food and water, and much needed medical support.  For all of these and those needs I can’t imagine, I pray to the Lord.

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