Jenny Hears the Train, by Cecil Morris

Rain, Steam, and Speed, by J. M. W. Turner (Britain) 1884.

Jenny Hears the Train

The thrum of the diesel in the distance 
and the sound of wheels on rails, steel to steel,
makes me want to go, to get out of town,
to leave the life I have and try for something
new. I hear the train while I am fixing 
breakfast, its sound coming over the houses
and in my open window, pitch rising
as it picks up speed, and I imagine
myself lifting off, like a bird you know,
and following it. It would be a long
fat worm from my vantage. Sometimes, dreaming
like that, I let the eggs go from over
easy to solid through and the biscuits 
go brown and dry and hard and then I hear
the sounds of complaint, dissatisfaction--
not words usually but descending sighs 
and maybe groans like a train approaching,
slowing. That's pretty much all I get, sorry
silent disapproval whenever he's
here. Of course, it could be way worse, he could
be a hitter like my own daddy was, 
and I'll take this cold hell to the hot hell
my mama lived. I guess til I grow wings
I'll have to live this life I chose when I
was 16 and afraid I'd have no life.

Cecil Morris

Cecil Morris retired after 37 years of teaching high school English in California. Now he tries writing himself what he spent so many years teaching others to understand and enjoy. In his newly abundant spare time, he has been reading Sharon Olds, Tony Hoagland, Naomi Shihab Nye, and Morgan Parker. He has had a handful of poems published in English Journal, The 2River Review, Poem, Dime Show Review, The American Scholar, and other literary magazines.