Wish of a Locomotive
JAMES A. S., WISCONSIN
For way too long has it sat
The massive metal beast
It sits alongside the tracks
Weeds ‘n’ flowers have grown up around it
Bushes have grown out of its metal wheels
The black paint is all but gone
Rust surrounds the entire steel body
Rivets once strong now crumble
The smokestack once puffed grayish smoke
Now, an eagle has created a nest inside
The numbers are all but gone to the naked eye
But if you look closely the #48 is seen
The whistle once blew strong ‘n’ loud
Now the whistle remains silent
Crows have made a nest in the engine house
The light once was bright, now is dark
The mighty steam locomotive The Lancaster
He sits all alone through the days
He sits all alone through the nights
He’s barely surviving the elements of nature
So many sunrises, he wishes to be restored
So many nights, he wishes to puff smoke
So many evenings, he wishes to be on the rails
So many Falling Stars, he wishes to be rolling
His wishes may be heard someday
And maybe the wishes will come true . . .