A Writing on the Net SM
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Arrival at Red Level...1938
By Beverly Z. Davis
Copyright 2000 Beverly Z. Davis
About scenes at a train station.
Fog filled morning
sticking below the limp tree line
Stepping down
smacked by hot humid vapor reluctant to move
reluctant to become air
sulking under the red ball
of the rising sun.
Looking around
a landscape stuck
in red clay.
nostrils gritty with acrid smoke
belching cinders
from the mass of lugging chugging Iron
the odor of pine needles and wet clay.
"A-a-a-11 aboa-r-r-r-d"
The steam whistle blasts the day apart.
High pitched clangs, bangs of metal bolts,
greasy chains and hitches clank together
... an awkward lurch.
steely wheels turn
grinding, straining
grasping friction
tearing apart gravity
... pulls forward
to Georgianna.