Railway

Long before you see train The tracks sing and tremble, Long before you know direction Train come from, a hum Announces it soon arrive. So we tend to drop on all fours Even before we look left or right. We skip the sleepers or walk Along by balancing on a rail. We talk about the capital Where the train ends its run From the interior stacked with The outsized trunks of felled Trees and open-topped cars of bauxite. We always hide from it unsure What the train will do if we Stand next to the tracks. It flattens our nails into knives, It obliterates any traffic Caught by it at crossroads, It whistles a battle cry, Steam from the engine a mood Not to mess with or else. Rails without beginning or end, Twinned hopes always at your back, Always up front signaling you on, Double oxen, hoof stomp, temper Tantrum, stampede, clatter Matter, head splitter, hear us, Stooped with an ear to the line— greenheart, mora, baromalli, purple heart, crabwood, kabakalli, womara.