One more step on the Path

Not to know
the end of the path
but to step along each stone
and allow the winding steps
to lead the feet
and wandering eyes.

This is a wanton step
of drunken love.

Your hand
and wavering passage
hips like railroad cars
to rails and spikes
and gravel and ties
and the bed and the path;
they all point
sundial swing.

The tunnel ahead,
I drive my engine,
smoke stacks
in a billowing puff
one head way blow
two stoke arm
three wheel lurch
four go down
and a whistle.

Long is the clatter clat steam
and the  bustling jolt;
loud is the churn
and the main line thistle.

Hold on down
steam on train;
Whoa-a-woo!

And the train cars clatter
with the steam.

Long is the ride,
and narrow is the rail.

Calls the conductor,
"All aboard!"

And each passenger pays
a mainline toll
and that's breathing.

runningturtle87