Off in the distance
a haunting train whistle blows
in the sullen early morning fog
that sat the night
and now blankets the slow rising sun
The train whistle, this foggy morning
hovers in that place inside–
that place holding your deepest loneliness
That place hope surrenders
That place you go–
when real tears fall
Listen to what haunts you
Hear its voice, know its name
For it will call again
It will find you as you sleep
like that haunting train whistle
breaking the early morning fog
Poetic Alchemist 