Trains

Tracks run through my eardrums
like pins dropping on the floor
one by one
picking up in frequency, in decibels
approaching till the sound of metal
and whistles and steam and coal burning
fill my imagination.
A watch opens
and then a man writes down the time

a line leading off from somewhere to elsewhere
only passing through like,
like a glance in a hallway,
iris embers burn like comets,
a fiery entrance,
but quickly fade,
leaving behind but a wisp of smoke
and a whistle
coulda' woulda' shoulda'
train train
runnin' in muh brain