Train Dodging

a metal log it is
rushing gliding skating through time
she is a generation of memories

yet keeps such wonders to herself
not even whispering to passengers
about the black-strapped boy on the tracks his heart
pounding telling him to hop
to the side but adrenaline robs his senses
shakes him like a friend greedy and yelling ready-or-not
here she comes

and she does flying by barely missing him
at the last minute and what of his playmates
those cute strawberry Mississippi girls
the ones with pearled magnolias braided into their hair?

that southern drawl sweeping under
their feet swoops over platted scalps like
double-dutch phone cords

and they all pause laughing when he catches
his balance on the other side of the tracks

it was close this time sure but not close enough
for their undivided attention

and the train?
she just whistles her chain-gang song
watching it all being steered straight
guided gently to the right left
that aged growl is the hum of her rigidity scoot
an over-ground railroad song that she keeps
undoubtedly to herself