97.

There’s something about a train that is like

A sonnet: how promising is that?

The movement of lines, the rhythm, sound, friction

Whatever the comparison, trains make

Poems. Songs can rail against love,

The scarring like the marshalling yards

On land that once was pasture. Country thoughts

Are not always pastoral. Love is now

Industrial strength: white noise and image-thrust

Lust after whatever sublimation is left

But the whisper of your hand is deft.