by Raquel wigglesworth

Created on: April 25, 2008

The Union Pacific from Albuquerque

Stuck somewhere between a dream and awake
Sheets rustling, entwined in my legs
You are asleep, breath shallow, stuck in a dream
The same fight, fresh in my heart, lingers
I want to go home.
"Home is where you make it, " you say.
The hot august wind screams at the window
I open it an inch to hear the train
Bellowing from a distance, just passing through.
Tomorrow the same train will roll through mom's backyard
Bending the ragweed and the dill
Straining against their stems.
Heat shimmers off the tracks
And the smell of tar and oil
Rolls off the steel rails.
The engine eases out of the city, between backyard gardens
For an intimate glimpse of another's life
The couple I saw between clotheslines of pants and undershirts,
Drying in the sun,
Making love on a balcony just outside of Gary
As I rode the South Shore all the way to Michiana.
I ached to be somewhere else.
The cries of the train are more distant now
As the engine moves into someone else's life.
The clacking is constant as the 2:10 from Albuquerque
Rolls through town
Lulling me to sleep
Taking me back home.

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