Locomotive Breath

The rumble of passing trains,

going where they’ve always gone

at times we knew

and could set our watches by,

their metronomic clatter,

their iron rail rhythm

remorselessly bending nature

to their will;

Pressing on through the seasons

the rumble of passing trains;

Unfolding the countryside at

which passengers are staring,

watching and waiting

for their destinations to arrive,

as if by magic,

outside of their carriage windows,

Oblivious to the locomotive’s

kinetic brutality beating down

the miles as houses roll past

like a tracking shot in a film,

where the footage repeats in loops

and in time-less labyrinths

of their own purpose and making

and unmaking and remaking,

till the metal leviathan

heaves its last breath

and sighs contentedly,

at ease,

on time,

at the platform,

where no-one disembarks.

4 thoughts on “Locomotive Breath

  1. amitapaul

    This poem takes the reader on a journey through time to a bygone era yet also manages to link it to the present through allusions and similes

  2. Madhumatby

    The beautiful poem paints the picture of a train rumbling through the countryside and reminds you of how futile life’s journey eventually proves to be.

  3. VijayNair

    Evocative and allegorical,the poem takes the reader on a ride(no pun intended) through the countryside of a different era .Larkinesque! A delightful read.


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