Hometown Histories

How do the young there ever learn To dream journeys to faraway places, Without rails that pair side by side Desire and distance, point the arrow Across the horizons, carry them wayfaring With every train whistle played on the night? The town has no length; it is only A circle closed in on itself, a cluster Of safe village streets and no level crossings. The corner lights sat WAIT-WALK, WAIT-WALK, But no signals say dare to ride farther Than country roads; where the rails run Are the great cities, great stations, Great expectations of a work to be done. Without trains, the town holds no sound Of going; the young grow old without yearning.