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Sounds In The Night
A shrilling whistle echoes through the tunnel
Sharp squeal metal on metal tracks
Scent of burning black
Blurring coal cars racing timely fast
Through cold gray concrete tunnels
Triples a warning horn
To homeless there
Dark shadows of torn old coats
Running through the night
To their cardboard refrigerator boxes
And old dirty soft blankets found
Among the trees hidden from view
A teakettle screeching
And red-orange barrel of fire for warmth
Homeless people nowhere to go?
© Joyce Ann Geyer
~October 26th 2003~
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