Chugga choo

I am having an exchange
with an Italian
about trains

It sounds like where he is from
trains are for the lowly,
low to mid

It's hard to make sense of it
even though he writes
in English

Perhaps the trains, once looked at
as the only way,
are old hat

I think my new foreign friend
finds beauty in track
as I do

I hope we can discuss this
in greater detail
over time

But, we are two poor poets
made poor by our choice
to share words

One after the other now
the words flow like track
laid long ago

These simple shared romances:
driven by steam, coal,
electric

Bring the beauty of the world
to the foreground for
a second

Then whizzing by in a blur
another train finds
room to pass

For me, this is a daily
exercise in grace;
letting go

This daily ride signifies
that which I was not,
I am now

I hope my friend can muster
the strength to follow
my thought train

In practice, it is simple:
to move so fast while
sitting still
--
6.14.10