Seaboard Station

Twas 1933, and she
Was wide-eyed with elation
The day her father took her
Down to visit Seaboard Station

They went to fetch a parcel, he
Had ordered for her birthday
And all her senses teemed
In the commotion of the workday

The smell of wood, the colors
Of the banners in the rafters;
These lingered in her memory
Through many long thereafters

The working people gradually
Moved on, through relocation;
Until a silence fell upon
Abandoned Seaboard Station

She stood there in her nineties
With her grandson by her side;
Who looked at her with wondering
To see her misty-eyed

For she knows that no poetry,
No possible narration,
Could tell the tales of all the lives
That passed through Seaboard Station

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

7 thoughts on “Seaboard Station”

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