Walking the track through the woods
leaves rustle and crinkle underfoot
a white-gray sky spread overhead
the trees bare limbs are dark as soot
I hear a whistle up ahead
my feet stay steady on the rails
I could step off these boards instead
and let my cooler head prevail
I hear the train, its closer now
my long life ticks before my eyes
I hear it thunder, the pilot’s come
my feet run off, can’t say good-bye
I lean against a tree and sigh
the leaves caught up are flying high
we watch the train rumble by.
Image credit; Adam Bixby @ Unsplash
Copyright ©2025 Lisa Paul. All rights reserved.
A Little Bit of Everything, With Love 
You are not alone in these flights of dark fancy. But you my girl, have so much here to stay for…. xxoo
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As do you 🧡🍂❤️ Thank you 😍
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And it was just a “flight of dark fancy” as you so perfectly put it
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This pictures lets our imaginations go wild, doesn’t it? What’s waiting around the curve? Will it go down…literally and figuratively? Well done.
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Thank you very much! ✨🧡
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its true – this picture invites our imaginations to run away with us 🧡🍂🧡
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That was close Lisa x
Well penned my friend ❤️💖❤️
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Thank you, Maggie! ✨🧡
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My pleasure always Lisa ❤️🥰
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A dark fantasy, cutting it too close. An evocative poem Lisa. Thanks for joining in.
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Thank you, Sadje. It is a wonderful prompt! ✨🧡🍂
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You’re very welcome
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Very nice Lisa! It felt as if I was there, walking on the track with you.
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Thank you very much! ✨🧡
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