An engine pulls the train to Saskatoon.
You can feel a steady throbbing. The trainmaster, the engineer, The conductor, the brakeman, hobnobbing, Control the speed, the pressure on The grades, and fix the shifting loads, The “safe, prompt movement of the train” That an overheated axle bearing erodes, Even if the engineer Thinks to arrive with speed and fame With the blaze of yellow in the east, The hotboxes might smoke and flame. The sun is blazing, it erupts in flame That took a million years to emerge It sweeps aside the morning mist, And leaves the dew upon the verge, Along the growling train, the steaming Wheels, everything is in a trance, The engine and the sun are fed By Power that feeds all circumstance.
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Yaacov David Shulman
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October 2019
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