Poetry of place

The train has stopped at Springwood

On its journey up the mountain

The evening growing darker

As night resumes it's residency

The cooler air a harbinger of the winter soon to come

Alluding to hibernation and perhaps some solace and restfulness in that

 

Here in this destiny I await the great wheels to turn

And move on ever forward away from this unrelenting place

Onto somewhere where I can make my bed

And be glad if the serenity I seek is what I find when I am there

 

Then out of this penumbra comes a light

Like the halo depicted about saintly heads

Portending a prophecy

That there is no end