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          The Railway Train


          I like to see in lap the miles,
          And lick the valleys up,
          And stop to feed itself at tanks;
          And then, prodigious, step

          Around a pile of mountains
          And, supercilious, peer
          In shanties by the sides of roads;
          And then a quarry pare

          To fit its sides, and crawl between,
          Complaining all the while
          In horrid, hooting stanza;
          Then chase itself down hill

          And neigh like Boanerges;
          Then, punctual as a star,
          Stop-docile and omnipotent-
          At its own stable door.


          (Author: Emily Dickinson)

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          Copyrighted © January 19, 2003 by Angel45_2B
          This Page was formerly on my web site
          The Heart of Angel
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          "Locomotion"


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