Trainwreck

A short poem of a creature's journey.

It is nervous now,

It will be the first.

Blending with night, both blessing and curse

It sneaks away in the fetid gloom.



Dawn breaks forth,

It hates the light

Each moment swallowed, choked by fright

Its prayers speed the rising moon



It is night once more

Its happy place

It journeys on with a smiling face

Making good time before daybreak.



This day, too close!

It is almost caught!

Each decision’s bogged in second thoughts.

It flees with everything at stake.



It is calm again,

The danger’s past.

Its mind and feet are moving fast.

It walks along the tracks of the Train.



It takes a break

It is out of breath

It’s thoughts have strayed quite far from death

It sleeps in the boughs of an olive tree



It awakes with a start

Yet all is still

It calms Its heart by force of will

It gazes about; there’s nothing to see.



It wakes again!

Lights floods the base

The sounds of hounds riled high with chase.

A rope has made Its bed a foe.



A crow caws softly above Its head,

Swinging slowly, It is surely dead.

But the world doesn’t care,

“It” was just a negro.