This poem by Edna St Vincent Millay (Millay Colony) resonates profoundly today -- after nearly 5 weeks resting as I recover from post AWP concussion. Thank you. Academy of American Poets. Travel Edna St. Vincent Millay The railroad track is miles away, And the day is loud with voices speaking, Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day But I hear its whistle shrieking. All night there isn’t a train goes by, Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming, But I see its cinders red on the sky, And hear its engine steaming. My heart is warm with friends I make, And better friends Ill not be knowing; Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take, No matter where it’s going.
Posted on: Sat, 05 Apr 2014 13:18:54 +0000
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