Concrete And Echoes
Concrete and echoes, old stations grand,
Passenger trains, at idle, would stand.
Heavy iron, set on rails of steel.
Walls and floors rumble, power to feel.
Large was the manner of things, times past.
More massive the parts, longer they’d last.
This was travel, the men, suit and hat.
Restless children, on hard benches, sat.
Women wore skirts, and stockings with seams,
Cloth coats, perfumes, cosmetics, and creams.
Soldiers and sailors, a fine sight made.
Green duffel bags, impromptu parade.
Follow the schedules, ride anywhere.
Big locomotives getting you there.
Concrete and echoes, old stations grand.
All aboard. Keep your tickets in hand.
M.T. Jamieson lives with his wife, Susan, and their dog and two cats in northeastern Ohio. He is a Viet Nam Era U.S.A.F. veteran, and twice a former university student. Some of his poems have appeared in “WestWard Quarterly”, “Pancakes In Heaven”, “Northern Stars Magazine”, “The Poet’s Art”, “The Poetry Explosion Newsletter”. “the Lyric”, and “Adelaide Literary Magazine”. “Evening Street Press” and “The Sow’s Ear Poetry Review” have accepted pieces for publication.