The Railway Train
By Claire Houston
Tags: barefoot, Emily Dickenson, light, Maine, photography, poem, poetry, railway, train, white dress, woman
Category: Uncategorized
XVII The Railway Train
by Emily Dickenson
I like to see it 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.
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Dickinson is one of my favorites. I’ve posted several of hers on my blog. Thanks for posting this one.
Thank you, much appreciated!