It’s years since they closed
The railway down.
Life has slowly taken hold, crept in
And covered the tracks that brought jobs to this town.
Moss grows along the cross-ties.
A metaphor for our families’ lives.
The loss of work, the hopelessness.
Trees have sprouted in defiance
And greened our world.
The railway was life,
Frenetic, frenzied,
But somehow sterile.
Now the railroad has become
A unique part of our landscape,
Natural, beautiful, crowded, living.
And in a mysterious way,
Our pride returned,
And hope for better things.
Yes, it’s years since they closed
The railway down.
It always brings a tear to my eyes when I see the empty spaces that used to be filled with two iron rails and a series of crossties…
Sad, isn’t it?
Brings up some very real issues for many people everywhere. Universal. Love the image!
It is beautiful isn’t it? One of those pictures that prompted me to write the poem!
I love railways and I am always sad when they close down. That said, have you seen the High Line in NYC and the new pathway in Singapore? It looks like old railways are now an asset used to revive cities. And I like it!
They are such great ways to travel…
Beautiful and sad. Love the poem and the photo.
Thank you Surrae.
Sorry! Suerae!
Wow, very nice poem. Loved reading it. Thanks for sharing.
One of my fancies is old, decrepit buildings and such.
So this poem really struck out to me.
Thank you Jeffrey! I am an old derelict building addict too!
Ah, Caro, you just hit the nail on the head. Again. We have an old mill at our little town, in fact the town is named after it, and it sits in ruins, just falling apart bit by bit. I SO wish somebody would buy it and restore it. This poem is beautiful, and the picture is, too.
Thank you Amy, the truth is that if I had all the money in the world, I would buy derelict buildings and restore them for social housing projects..