Ghost Train, A short poem written by Kimberly M. Hall

I was tempted to, in passing over a set of tracks with no train. They seemed to scream my name. Stop here! Don't get caught in the rain. There I sat, at the head of the mountaintop. Oh Lord, the gravel pit was overloaded with Stonewall's wreckage. I wrote and I quote, "I was here," then shoveled the stone under the strewn broken ruble.

I rock climbed, whistle blew a song or two, when my shoes sank in at the bottom of that muddy foothill. Mine eyes gravitated before hopping the tracks up north, then back down south. Never hitchhike without your gloves; and the cliffhanger, that's where the stone turned to grey. Then to my surprise, a ghost train headed west rode by. Dearly departed, not a soul arrived but the ghastly image of what haunts engine number 9.