She loved to wander the Rails to Trails, old rail lines decommissioned into paths through meadows and forests.
She imagined steam engines puffing passengers, scattering birds and rabbits, bending bushes and wildflower heads.
She paused at abandoned stations, and vacant farm houses; once full of blood and daily life now part nature’s great recycling project.
Windowed-empty eyes watering; shedding/shredding tears for the trains that never came. Like soldiers not returned from war; migrating relations lost in the West; children enchanted into cities.
If she held her breath, she could hear lonely echo of train whistle bouncing; closed her eyes, see train-life wraiths follow the rails.
Arm and arm, she brought these ghosts along in her rambles. For on the old rail line, she never need be alone.
Stephanie’s #tuesdayuseitinasentence: rail
with both feet
one before the other
arms o u t s t r e t c h e d
like dragonfly wings
I balance on the rail
that ties trainstotrack
journey to . . .
twiglet 32: with both feet
image via pixabay.com