Night Train by Margie Mack

There is a sound I hear when I am still asleep,

Wherever my dreams take me, pulling me out from the deep.

This sound, a lonely, haunting wail, it always sounds the same.

Back into my childhood days and the calm of the night train.

Once awake I rub my lids, and focus tired eyes.

My thoughts go towards the night train, and the lights beneath the sky.

I wonder of the sights it sees the voices that it’s heard.

The night-train has a bond with them, of no unspoken words.

The train is prodding, pressing, pleading, and urging me to run,

My spirit that’s within the orb has slowly come undone.

And while I lay here lazily, hazily in vain,

The single most secluded sound, the tempting mid-night train.