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Tristan Dueck's avatar

The railroad track is miles away;

I left it with my childhood.

And now its paralleling lines

Wind only in my memory.

For I've travelled to a place

Where railroad tracks aren't needed.

We ride and sway instead inside

The Great Lakes endless seaway.

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Margaret Ann Silver's avatar

Those last two lines--they are a pleasure to read as well as being haunting.

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Margaret Ann Silver's avatar

The railroad track is miles away

.

It’s been so long since I’ve been on a train.

The closest I came was taking the light rail

from a transfer station to the airport.

Waiting on the platform was a woman

who drew my eye: her platinum blonde hair

and stacked high heels, her black capris

and bright lipstick. She was older than me,

maybe in her sixties, so chic.

I tried to take subtle notes on her outfit.

When she sat next to me, I was so pleased,

ready to learn. We ended up talking

about our families, about estrangement,

about time spent trying to fix broken things.

I told her what I feared about my trip:

that my sister wouldn't want to talk to me.

She told me it was going to work out.

Or maybe not. She told me it was still

going to be okay.

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Tara Connor's avatar

YAY! This is wonderful. I love that captured moment. Reminds me of all those conversations I've had with strangers while traveling. Often some of the most memorable moments from a trip. Thanks for playing! 🤗

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Margaret Ann Silver's avatar

Thank you for hosting 😊. I’m feeling very excited and curious about the rest of the poem (I’m not familiar with it and am going to wait to read it).

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Lisa Andradez's avatar

this is my first draft, still needs work, but I enjoyed the prompt... :)

.

I have not seen a friend in forever now

the railroad track is miles away

and yet I can still hear the noise of metal

on metal, feel the gentle rock of the wooden carriage,

and the toot of a horn in the distance

I wonder if my friends are on the train

why they don't stop to visit

perhaps they have forgotten me

as they look at the blurry scenery passing by

marvelling at it all

excited just to be moving, unlike me

I wonder if they know how far away

the railroad is

do they know I cannot reach it

have they considered me at all

too busy with their adventures

leaving me behind with the unwanted luggage

too heavy to carry along

too much to bear

the railroad track is miles away

my friends are on the train

and I am watching from a distance

as their journey unfolds.

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Tara Connor's avatar

Wonderful, Lisa! First drafts are magic, and exactly what we're looking for here!

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LeeAnn Pickrell's avatar

I love your poem and how you use the train's sounds as a metaphor for all that noise in our heads. I was inspired to write a little ... maybe a haiku of sorts.

The railroad track is far away

still the train's horn sounds

morning's first hour

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Tara Connor's avatar

Love it! Thank you so much for spending a bit of time with this. 🤗

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Zivah Avraham's avatar

What a fabulous idea for a poetry prompt. I love using quotes and excerpts from novels to create poetry and this sounds like a great way to discover new poems and poets, or think about them in a different way.

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Tara Connor's avatar

Zivah, hooray and welcome! So glad to have you here.

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

Lovely first prompt and poem. And thanks for the share. I have this project in my mind to come play once I’ve caught up post Xmas. Gah to other work getting in the way. Congrats on launching it 👏👏👏

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Tara Connor's avatar

Would be so delighted to have you along on this journey, Nelly, in whatever way you can manage. 🤗

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small victories's avatar

& how you learned to count

by numbers on tanks & tenders

thomas, 1, up to hiro –

& how christmas that year,

you, young & tender,

our eve quiet & somber

& how you won't remember how

our eve wasn't decorated, tidings

rolled out like the tide

& how you, sleeping in your manger

didn't hear what i heard, crackle

of bing crosby on vinyl –

spinning at 78rpm

my whirlwind whooshed up a tree,

blew fairy lights on,

you counting trains in your sleep

& how i pounded in the steel

rails for the track & how

blue christmas wasn't somber

& how while you rested

tenders carried incense

& myrrh & how –

awake now, you chuff

to your train yard

those tracks built so

far away, that playtime lasting

forever that day,

really useful engine,

my boy,

my boy –

& how.

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Dick Whyte's avatar

A lovely prompt :-)

.

the railroad track

is miles away:

.

the ocean even further,

further still—tucked

.

in the crooked neck

of a god—yonder

.

<3

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Matt Abbott's avatar

Thanks for the shout out - very much appreciated!

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Tara Connor's avatar

You are most welcome. But the thanks should all go to you for sharing such a helpful piece with the poets of Substack. Cheers!

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Margaret Ann Silver's avatar

Also, your poem is lovely. So many satisfying similes and metaphors, plus that uneasy hunt for a feeling/sound/thing is so familiar.

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Elaine Cameron's avatar

I have never done anything like this before. I don't even know if this is a poem but here goes, nothing ventured nothing gained.

Railroaded

I took that train forty years ago

Flinging myself away from you

But still my heart follows its trail

Jumps the tracks

Grabs the rail

Stows away among the cargo

And the buffalo horns

Finds its way

Inevitably

Back to you

In spite of everything

That came to pass

The lies we told each other

If you were to open your arms

Once more

I would speed

Like a bullet to your side

Sleek and oh so deadly

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Tara Connor's avatar

It's most definitely a poem! I love it. Very brave to dive into something new. I'm so happy you're here. When I write something new I often tuck it away for a week or two. Then I come back to and see if any edits stand out to me. Then I repeat the process. What's fun is if I'm organized enough to keep a clean copy of each iteration. That way I can decide to go back to something I liked better from an earlier version, and see the whole process in action. I hope you come back again this week for week 2!

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Elaine Cameron's avatar

Oh thank you for your encouraging words Tara! I decided to feel the fear but do it anyway, how else do we learn? I will definitely keep coming back. Thank you for this safe space.

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Melanie Bettinelli's avatar

The rumbling of freight trains was my childhood lullabye

I have always lived within hearing of the railroad tracks

within earshot of the rumbling of trains

Their rhythmic clicking and clacking and thumping and bumping

sang me to sleep as a small child. And as a teen.

And I could hear them from my college dorm room

and from the cold turquoise-tiled hotel room that functioned

as a dorm room in Manziana, north of Rome, I heard them

as I huddled beneath the brown wool blanket on my squeaky bunk bed piled with clothes.

And even now when the evening is quiet

and the windows are open

I can hear the distant whistle of the train

though the train station is two miles away

calling me calling me to come ride.

Paul Simon sings: everybody loves the sound

of a train in the distance.

Is that a train I hear or is it just the wind or an airplane?

I dream of trains carrying me away.

The very best was sleeping on trains

the semester I spent in Europe

rocked to sleep

in mechanical mother's arms

sleeping so well

or sometimes poorly-- when it was too hot

or too crowded to lie down--

waking up in a new city, a new country

new language new currancy

stepping off the train into a new adventure.

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